Time To Go II
by Pamala
Summary: The race to find Michael, clear his name, and bring him home to his family. Sequel to Time To Go
1. Chapter 1

Title: You Can't Go.  
Series: Time To Go II ( 1? )  
Author: Pamala Category: Angst/Romance/Adventure Spoilers: Gonna help a lot to have read the first story: Time to Go" I Rating: PG Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.  
Authors notes: I'm clearly nuts to start this again. A sequel is never as good as the original? But hey I promised to step back in and clean up the mess I made over the summer so here I am. Two chapters a week to start now and again at the end, the rest one a week each Monday just like before.  
Thanks: To snowwhite22 and missmazzie for being willing to jump in and do beta work on this story even if they know how long, difficult and drawn out the job is gonna be. You guys are the best!

Last time: ( Way back in March ) Framed for T bags murder Michael set off for Mexico alone. Six months pass by before Lincoln discovers Sara is pregnant with Michael's child and vows to do whatever it takes to find Michael and bring him home.

Chapter #1 " You Can't Go. "

It's the little things, finding the screen unlocked, the door behind it standing wide open, that hit me hardest as I take in the reality of Lincoln Burrows living his life as a free man.

Spending months cautiously tucked away behind drawn blinds and locked doors in the beginning, I can see him slowly begin to accept this new life.

Shouting his name through the partially open door prompts a loud-booming,  
"Hey V, come on in. I'm back here ... bedroom" from the back of the house.

As I move through his home, I can't help smiling at the comfortable surroundings.

Stopping for a moment, running my hand along the soft leather of the overstuffed sofa, something all Linc, fitting of him in every way, my mind drifts back to the first time I saw it less than a month back. It was a turning point for him. It made me feel good seeing him so genuinely pleased by the simple notion of having matching living room furniture for the first time in his life.

It's something I'll never forget because it was that moment I started to believe he'd begun to accept, even look forward to, his life outside prison.

" Don't even think about it! " The nearness of his voice pulls my eyes upward from the rich burgundy leather to see him standing in the doorway, eyeing me with the bright smile I've only just begun to become accustom to. " No sense getting attached. I love that couch, I'm gonna have them bury me in it."

" I thought you were gonna be buried in the king size bed? "

Correcting me over his shoulder as he turns to walk away, his warm laughter - something I'll never get enough of - makes the smile on my face grow wider than I thought possible. " No. NO! You got it wrong! I'll die in the bed and have them bury me in the couch. Hey, grab yourself a cup off coffee and meet me in the bedroom. We can talk there... kind of in a rush... need to get packed. "

Discovering a dab of sticky jelly on the countertop, surely from one the sandwiches Lincoln says LJ eats two or three of at a time these days, I pour my coffee and I'm surprised to find the cabinet below containing the cleaning products locked up tight with a plastic child safety device.

Frustrated at trying to find a way in, I can't help but feel hopeful seeing yet another glaring, sweet fact that he's jumped the gun. He's excited for Sara's baby, one that won't be able to roll over, let alone reach a cabinet, for a long time to come. The arrival he's begun thinking about, acting on such measures so far in advance, is another reminder of Lincoln's new found willingness to embrace the future.

Inexperience leaving me unable to open it, another hint I don't need that my biological clock is ticking loud enough to be heard in three counties, I make quick work of the mess as best I can with warm water and a paper towel before grabbing my mug and heading down the short hall to join him.

Making my way to his room located at the end of the hall, I'm forced to walk past the bedroom that belongs to LJ - the open door disaster that, a great relief to all of us, is typically filthy and disorganized just like any other teenaged male's room.

Directly across the hall from him is another door.

Closed, always closed.

A room I've never the seen inside.

Yet one I don't need to see to know its neat, organized, ready and waiting because.  
' Michael will need place to stay when I get him back home. '

That door, its meaning, grabs hold of my heart, squeezing it tight in my chest, speeding up my lingering pace as I'm reminded why I'd come in the first place.

Busy stuffing the needed essentials into a large duffle bag, he barely looks up as I enter the room and take a seat on the bed next to his bag.  
" I changed the sheets for you."

As he says it, I begin running my fingertips over the thick comforter wondering if he has any idea, wondering if I'll ever have the nerve to tell him, that each time I agree to stay with LJ while he runs off to search for Michael, I secretly hope he'll forget to change them, allowing me to spend night after night lying in his bed, the faith masucline smell of his aftershave, lingering on the pillow,  
surrounding me, filling me up, as I remember the few scattered nights we were together before devotion to his son and the unrelenting drive to find his brother consumed everything he had left to give.

" You can't go, Lincoln. Not this time."

Not hearing a word I'm saying, he goes on attempting to fold and eventually rolling into a ball the t-shirt in his hands and shoving it forcefully into a corner of the bag as he speaks. " LJ won't give you any trouble. The kid's been through the extreme edition of Scared Straight. He's worried about his Uncle Mike. Other than making a mess and eating me out of house and home, he's not gonna give you a lick of trouble. I promise, V."

"I'm not worried about LJ."

He stops what he's doing, his head rising slowly and purposefully until he meets my eye.

"Linc, you can't leave Sara. It's too close."

The odd look on his face as he walks away, into the bathroom, clanging about the room, gathering up what he needs, makes me wonder if he knew what I was going to say all along. "Nah! It's fine. I went with her for that ultrasound thing a few days ago and the doctor told her everything was fine. Said she had a good two weeks left, more if she went past her due date, which the doc said usually happens with the first baby."

Leaning over to peer through the open door, I catch a brief glimpse of him in the mirror over the sink, undeterred, going about his business.  
"Did she tell you why they were doing another ultrasound this late in the pregnancy?"

Other than a prolonged heavy sigh, he stops moving in the other room, falling completely silent as he walks back in, tossing his shaving kit on the bed next to the bag. " Measuring. Yes, she told me ... they say he's a big boy ... so what?"

" Boy? This distinctly male, bordering on macho assumption of yours that this baby is going to be a boy - another man in the proud tradition of Burrows men - is getting a little old. The fact that Sara doesn't know the sex means you don't either..."

He takes a step back, running his hand roughly through his hair, massaging his scalp and neck in frustration as he watches me begin to pull his things slowly from the bag as I speak. "What are you going to do if this baby is girl?"

He laughs softly, momentarily easing the growing tension. "At first, I have no clue, but eventually I'll be standing around, ready and waiting, to scare the hell out of any guy that tries to date her when she's all grown up."

As he snatches and prepares to stuff it back in the bag the clothing I'd removed, folded, and set aside on the bed, I reach out and take firm hold of his hand, squeezing it hard to get his attention. " This late ultrasound, concern over a big baby. Linc, this is about them worrying she may have trouble delivering."

Watching him standing there, frozen in place, staring at me, I push away the bag, pulling the items from his hands, while tugging gently on his arm, urging him to sit next to me. "I know you want to find him... that you hate the thought of Michael not being there when his child is born. "

His refusal to look me in the eye, fixated on something unseen, off into the distance, rubbing his stubbled chin in thought as if he believes that if he thinks hard enough he'll see the answers written on the wall across the room, makes me push a little harder to be sure he hear what I'm saying. "She could have a hard time, Linc, and you need to be here if she needs you. Are you listening? Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? "

Shrugging, stuffing his hands in his pockets, watching my eyes carefully as he takes a seat on the bed next to me, he looks more like a scared child than a man hardened by an unimaginably difficult life as he asks the question I know means the world to him. "They're gonna be okay, won't they, V? "

"They'll be fine ... everything is going to be fine"  
Laying my hand on his to reassure him, he shifts the position, easily sweeping my hand possessively into his own, weaving our fingers together as he does. "You've chased down every lead, Lincoln. Looked every place you could think of. As much as I know you want to find him, the chances of doing it with nothing to go on in the next four days are next to zero."

Understanding just how difficult it really is for him letting 'finding Michael' go for the moment, I reach up, covering both our hands, the tips of my fingers gently stroking the rough skin on the back of his hand as I tell him the truth he knew before I ever walked through the door. "You know as well as I do he'd want you to be here for her, for both of them."

Releasing his hold on my hand, his fingers threading quickly through my hair to the base of my neck, pulling my lips gently to his for a chaste kiss before pulling away painfully quick as he confesses the last thing any man likes to admit. " You win...you're right. I know you're right."

" You'll stay then? "

Rising to his feet, letting me go altogether, he reaches past me and takes hold of the bag, lifting it high, tipping it upside down to unceremoniously dump the contents all over the bed behind me. " Yeah, I'll stay ... for now. "

TBC...

Next time(Monday): Where has Michael been all this time? 


	2. Chapter 2

" Never Ever Forget "  
Time To Go II ( 2? ) 

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

I walked in darkness, no moon to light the way, along the deserted beach as long as possible before finally turning inland when the way became impassable.

There was something about the water, the smell of the ocean everywhere,  
the night wind stinging the skin on my face, allowing me to feel closer to the ones I'd left behind, those that were more difficult to leave behind than I'd ever imagined.

It took everything I had in me to leave that beach, continue heading south, to turn my back on the Pacific shoreline that would have lead me back to them.

In the beginning I stopped often.

I'd stop where I stood, just stand there, no matter how far I'd come, and look back to the place, the people I'd left behind, digging deep to find the strength to either go back and face what might come, or move forward without ever looking back.

While it became easier knowing they'd left California, were safely back home, I often found myself stopped, pulled in both directions as I moved down and across the Baja Peninsula.

While I never saw it coming as the days flowed into weeks, I eventually found myself letting go of the past. I worked slowly and begrudgingly at letting go of the ones I'd loved most until acceptance hit me like a bolt of lightening on the same day I crossed the Gulf and began making my way down the coast of Mexico.

The past was gone and I had to accept that fact.

Making a life for myself was what they'd hoped for when they sent me out, away to safety that night. I know how difficult it was for him, how it was likely his choice that Sara tell me because after all we'd done to be a family again, being ripping apart for good was more than he could stand to do face to face.

Slowly over time I began to see the least that I could do is make their sacrifices count by carving out a life for myself just as they'd hoped.

I spent three weeks right after I crossed the border in a cozy little village about twenty miles north of Mazatlan.

Money no object, American dollars at a premium, I found a comfortable place to rent just outside of town in no time at all.

Days quiet...Nights quieter still... I'd begun to believe I found an end to the running only to find that, in the end, when its comes to living with a stranger in your midst, curiosity inevitably trumps good manners and even the kindest people I'd met would eventually make it impossible for me to stay.

Passing glances turned to stares overnight.

While my meager Spanish kept most people at bay, that small bit of protection faded quickly as their apprehension drifted away leaving me a curiosity to the point that I was unable to sit alone for a beer or meal.

Eyes watching me from all directions, muttering questions I knew, even if half understood by me at best, meant settling anywhere without a story was not meant to be and I had to be moving on.

Late one night, one far chillier than normal with storms rumbling far in the distance over the ocean, I packed up my modest possessions and began to move south.

My mind raced through many scenarios, playing each out carefully in my head, as I went looking for any story, an imagined history, that would keep everyone I met at a distance.

Try as I might, nothing came to mind until the day I happened across a silver picture frame at an open air market in a tourist section of Mazatlan.  
Passing over the ten and a few singles I had stuffed in my pant pockets, I brushed the woman's hand gently away as she made a move to remove the picture.

Watching me carefully, nodding slowly as she tapped the photo behind the glass, I nod my agreement, my desire to have the picture, likely stolen from someone's home or desk, left inside the frame.

A plan set in motion, the photo tucked under my arm as I make my way up the street, I begin to memorize the faces from the picture.

The woman and child, while both Hispanic, had the fair skin and striking features I needed for the lie to be believable.

Pressing on, my feet moving faster and with more purpose than they'd had in weeks, I turned the corner into a shop at the end of the street and purchase a thick gold band. Paying for it quickly, slipping it onto my left hand unceremoniously as the woman behind the counter struggles to help me learn a word, one I'll need more than any other, for a crisp new American twenty

" Viudo."

My home is now, has been for the last six months, in Salagua, Mexico.

Salagua is a beautiful, sleepy little village to the north of Manzanillo.

Treacherous beaches, sporting high waves and a vicious undertow making it vastly unpopular as a tourist destination, is all that I'd hoped for in a place to hide away and live out my life alone in peace.

I have a small home a short walk from the river where men and boys use large nets to catch fish driven in by the fierce currents in the early evenings.

Several nights a week I walk down, sit on a hillside, and enjoy the simple pleasure of watching what they do in the fading light of another blazing Mexican sunset.

It is as simple and peaceful an existence as I can hope for.

People pay me no mind here.  
My story is common knowledge now and the locals have little more to say other than... " Viudo. Tragico para un hombre tan joven aflojar todo que el adora. Facil de ver por que el correria, se esconderia lejos. Permitiria que el ser. " when someone dares to ask about the mysterious stranger.

' Widower. Tragic for a man so young to lose all that he loves. Easy to see why he'd run, hide himself away. Let him be.' Spoken in Spanish, translated into English inside my head, like everything seems to be no matter how fluent I become in the language, those are the words I hear whispered cautiously, sympathetically as I pass people on the street.

This imagined past serves me well as a means to gain the privacy I needed, making it easy for me to see that a lie is best hidden in the truth.

Here, now, if someone should wander through my home, into my life, they pass by, pass through with ease because I can tell them a version of the truth.

I can tell them I ran from California because I lost the people I love, my family, in a tragedy, and Salagua offered the peace and solitude I needed to heal.

The pain of losing them is eased immeasurably, I'm able to miss, mourn them openly and never ever forget because anyone who knows me believe the names of the woman and child in the photo to be Sara and Lincoln.


	3. Chapter 3

We Need To Go Time To Go II ( 3? ) 

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

" We agreed."

I can tell he hears me, knows what I'm saying by the way he slows progress picking peppers from the calzone on his plate. " Linc, if you don't like green pepper, why don't you try telling them to make it without them.? "

Finally, after hours of near total silence interrupted occasionally by stilted conversation about where I wanted the baby furniture placed after he assembles each piece, I see the light of something real, something honest,  
flash across his face as he levels a stern gaze on me while he speaks.

" I didn't agree... I didn't agree to THIS."

Frustrated, angry, but trying desperately to keep his anger in check, he stabs several of the peppers on the edge of plate onto the fork as he speaks,  
stuffing them into his mouth when he's done as if he needs them, something more bitter and distasteful than his words, to offset what he has to say.  
" I didn't agree to this! I would never have agreed to it, Sara. Sending him away, letting him walk out on his child. I would have never done any of it if I'd known you were pregnant."

It takes everything I have in me to fight back the tears stinging my eyes,  
but I find the strength because I need this man.

Need him because he is my friend, because he is the closest thing to family I've known in a very long time, because he may be the only thing my child will ever know of his father. I take a deep breath preparing to speak my mind, knowing full well all of it, that 'need,' can and will fall apart if we don't clear the air.  
" I know you wouldn't have. That's why I didn't tell you or him. "

Startled by my honesty, he sets his plate down hard on the coffee-table in front of him, turning slowly to face me, his eyes locked on me every inch of the way. " Do you have any idea what this is going to do to him? Are you aware that our own father walked out on us before Michael was born, Sara? "

Startled by the sudden release of pent up anger, yet equally relieved to be getting things out in the open, I work hard to keep control of my own emotions while setting my own plate gently on the table next to his as I speak. " I know the history, Lincoln. I know what this will mean to him if he ever finds out, but his safety meant everything to me. Even now, knowing how this will hurt him, knowing he's safe still means more to me than all of that. Right or wrong, it's all I could think about... then and now."

" Ever finds out? Of course he'll find out! "  
His voice rises slowly and steadily with each world until I find myself uncomfortable, the tiniest bit frightened, as he finally gives into full-on shouting. " You need to understand he will find out because I will find him.  
I don't care what it takes.. how long it takes me to do it...I will find him, Sara. And heaven help us both when I do because he won't understand. The 'why' and 'what for' won't matter because all he'll see is how he abandoned his child. How you and I made him do it."

Unable to sit anymore, rising to his feet, hovering over me, chest heaving in anger, I get a glimpse of the raw power of this man, one I know to be gentle and kind, that could have lead people to believe him capable of murder.  
" How could you have done this? HOW! Explain it to me ... I need to understand! "

" Because I loved him! "

Unable to hold back a moment longer, I give in, letting the tears flow freely with my words. " I want him here too, Lincoln!..."

My own anger, obvious pain, startles him to the point he begins physically backing away as I speak my mind in return. "I want Michael next to me in that room when this baby is born more than anything, but you know as well as I do that wasn't going to happen. We had nothing to prove his innocence when we sent him away. We've got NOTHING now! If he'd come back, if you'd found him, he'd be in prison right now and you know it."

Fighting for control, choking back the torrent of tears as best I can, I do what I can to explain it to him, hoping to mend the painfully unspoken tension between the two of us. " I want to be able to tell this child that their father loved them, because you know he would have, Lincoln. Tell him or her that he'd have done anything to be with them, we both know he would, but he just couldn't. Tell them anything less painful than having to tell them that their father is locked up for life, worse yet - murdered, in prison for a crime he didn't commit.

"You of all people should understand that, Linc! "

Wanting more than anything to look away, knowing I can't because he has to understand, I look him dead in the eye with one last plea I hope he'll understand. " Think about it. After everything your own son went through in the last year, wouldn't you have done anything to have spared him? If there had been a way to make certain none of what happened to you ever touched him, no matter the cost to yourself, wouldn't you have done it? Wouldn't you?"

He stands there, staring down at me, wordless, for a long while before snatching a throw pillow off the end of the couch as he walks slowly around the table stopping to stand next to me, right over me. " Doc said you're supposed have your feet up at night."

With a warm but sad smile, pushing my plate and a magazine aside with the side of his arm, he plops the pillow on the table nudging my legs up gently with his foot. " Do what the Doc tells you. I gotta take good care of you two until I get him back home. He's gonna have my ass for the rest of this mess, so I'm not about to add neglect to the list!"

Doing as I'm told, lifting my swollen feet to the pillow, relieved to feel the tension ease a bit, I reach over taking hold of his forearm, stopping him before he can move away. " I'm so sorry..."

Turning back to face me, his free hand coming up, covering my hand stroking it gently on his arm, he looks down at me with nothing but kindness as he speaks.  
" Nah! Don't be sorry. Don't even think it. If you're gonna part of this family - and you are ..." With that he bends down kissing the top of my head tenderly while brushing the hair, damp with tears away from my face. " ... you've gotta learn to hold your own with all of us, including me.

" You rest, take it easy, I'll clean all this up for you"  
Watching him move, sweeping both plates into one large hand with ease, I can't help the loud groan of discomfort coming from my lips as I shift position in an attempt to recline my aching body.

" Heartburn? "  
He stops in front of me, watching me carefully.

" Yeah, a little bit, but I'm use to that by now. It's this backache I've had all day that's really killing me."

Taking hold of both glasses in the other hand, he issues what I can tell by his tone is far more order than suggestion or request. " Go lie down. No sense lying on that couch when you'll be far more comfortable in bed. You need your rest! I'll clean all this up, finish with the cradle, and check in on you before I go."

Lying on the bed, soft light filtering in from the other room, unable to sleep, I listen to him shuffling around, washing dishes, straightening up in the living-room, working as quietly as possible assembling the cradle in the next room for the better part of an hour.

Realizing he's done, the light flicking off in the next room, I wait quietly for him to appear in the doorway, leaning in, checking on me like he always does,  
expecting to find me safe, secure, and sound asleep as he heads home for the night.

As soon as I see his silhouette enter the doorway, I take him by surspise by leaning up on my elbows to meet his gaze.  
" Hey! Why aren't you sleeping? You won't be getting sleep for a long time to come. You need to get all you can now. "

" I feel too lousy to sleep. "  
Too dark to see him clearly I can see the concern written all over his face as clear as a bell in my mind as he moves through the dark room taking a seat on the foot of the bed. " Heartburn that bad tonight, huh? "

I hesitate for a moment, feeling a nervous flutter mingled with everything else going on inside me, deep in the pit of my stomach at the mere thought of saying what it is I need to say. " Kind of ... except this particular heartburn is coming at regular intervals that seem to be getting stronger and closer together all the time. "

" What? "  
He slides down the side of the bed until he's close enough to take hold of my hand, allowing me to lean in against his shoulder as another wave of pain sweeps through my body. " Now?... Damn it! I shouldn't have argued with you. Jesus! I'm sorry, Sara. "

Burying my head against him, breathing slow and steady, riding the wave waiting for it to subside, I can't help but laugh at his assumed guilt. " This isn't because of any argument. We needed to talk and you knew it as well as I did. It has nothing to do with that. Babies come when they want to. You know that! I've had contractions off and on for days now, Linc. They've always stopped before - eventually. But it looks like they're not going to this time..."

The pain easing, I lean back switching on a lamp on the bedside table so I can see him, he can see me, clearly. " It's gonna be tonight. The contractions are under ten minutes apart now. We need to go to the hospital... now. "

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

I Promise You

Time To Go II ( 4? )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

I'm grateful to be left sitting alone in near darkness. Sitting quietly looking out through the window, the soft rumble of thunder and sudden flash of lightning in the distance are the only things, comforting to me in a way, disturbing my peace for the longest time before anyone dares come into the room.

A shadow drifting in, creeping across the floor, set off by soft light filtering in from the hallway beyond, catches my attention setting me on edge, on guard, until I glance up to see the smiling face of Sara's nurse greeting me as she rounds the foot of the bed.

" Most of them love to be wrapped up nice and tight... " Leaning in, whispering softly she wraps the end of the blanket, tucking it in, around the feet of the sleeping infant snuggled in my arms only to have one tiny foot force its way free almost the instant she's done with the job. " ... but then again, some of them don't. "

I look up watching her, a sad smile drifting over my face, as she picks up a tiny formula bottle from the nightstand making note of how much is gone - all of it - in the chart with an approving grin on her face. " Well, her father never slept under the covers either. I remember when we were kids, sharing a room, it could be freezing cold and he'd still kick off all the blankets as he slept."

She stops in her tracks, staring down at me, confusion in her eyes, easy to see even in the faint light, forcing me to explain as best I can. " Sorry... I should have said something. This is my brother's little girl, not mine. He wanted to ... well, he just couldn't be here. "

A sad smile and understanding nod as she speaks tells me she accepts what I've said without question or hesitation. " You're a good brother to be here for him. It must be a tremendous relief for him to know you are here for his wife and baby."

She steps away, turning her attention to the task of changing the near empty IV hanging behind Sara's bed. " We had another military baby born here earlier in the week... It breaks my heart to think of these young men living in constant danger so far from home as their precious babies come into the world."

The twisting sensation, tension in the pit of my stomach, something I'd been fighting since the instant we arrived at the hospital, wondering how I'd explain Michael's absence if anyone should ask, is wiped away in an instant with this kind woman's reasonable assumption.

She reaches down smiling at me, wiggling one of the tiny little toes poking its way free from the pink blanket. " She's a beautiful little girl. Her daddy has something really wonderful to come home to now and I'll keep his safe return in my prayers."

As she turns to leave us I reach out, taking gentle hold of her arm and nodding to the woman sleeping quietly in the bed next to me. " She's going to be okay, right? "

A flash of lightning, nearer now, lights up the room allowing me to see kindness in the woman's eyes as she speaks. " Laboring as long as she did, then having a ' C' anyway, took a lot out of her but she'll be just fine. Her doctor gave her something for pain, something to help her sleep, she needs the rest, but I'm sure she'll be up and eager to hold her little girl before the sun comes up tomorrow morning. "

The approaching storm drawing her eyes away, grabbing hold of her attention for an instant she reaches down, brushing her hand gently over wisps of dark hair on the tiny head cradled gently in the crook of my arm. " If you get tired, want to go home, let us know, use the call button, and we'll come and take her to the nursery for the rest of the night, Mr. Burrows. "

The warmth of her wrapped in my arms, snuggled in against my body, makes the words coming from my mouth, " I won't get tired ... who could ever get tired of this,  
some of the truest and most heartfelt words I've ever spoken in my life.

A loud clap of thunder from outside, filling every corner of the room at the instant the woman disappears into the hall, startles the sleeping baby, causing her to begin to squirm and cry softly in my arms.

Falling back on what I can recall from a time when I was far too young and not nearly as involved as I should have been, remembering what worked best when LJ was a baby, I begin slowly rocking in the chair and speaking to her softly in a calm, reassuring voice.

A few " Its okay ... don't cry and some shhhh's " far from doing the trick, I decide that while she cannot understand the words perhaps hearing about her father, the emotion I feel just thinking of him being so far away at the most important moment of his life filling my voice as I speak, may be just the ticket for both us.

" I guess I should tell you about you father... He'd be here if he could, Em.  
He'd be so crazy over you. Sure, he's kind of quiet sometimes but he couldn't help but gush over you and you'd put that quietness of his to an end if a big hurry now, wouldn't you."

Her cries dying out, fading into little more that a choked whimper followed predictably by hiccups, I decide to keep at it believing perhaps it is, true or not, helping calm her every bit as much as myself. " I don't think he ever gave much thought to fatherhood but I know when he sees your face for the first time nothing in this whole world will ever make him happier or more proud than being your father will. "

Falling silent in my arms, looking up, around her, wide eyed and more alert that she'd been as yet, I'm startled to see 'his eyes' looking back at me, pushing me to go on for both our sakes. " Lets see - he's tall... Well, not taller than me when you get right down to it but since he's kind of skinny he looks taller and I let him believe he is because that what big brothers do sometimes. "

She yawns several times, her tiny eyelids fluttering open then shut, fighting to stay awake.  
" He has dark hair, curly if it gets too long so he cuts it all off every chance he gets..."

With my last words, a promise I know I'll keep, she drifts peacefully back to sleep.  
" He loves you, Em, no one will ever let you forget that. Sleep tight and don't you worry because I'm gonna find him for you. Find him and bring him home to you as soon as I can... I promise you that, kiddo. "

Sitting there, rocking her gently, everything quiet, peaceful, for the moment I feel certain I can and will do what I've promised her, that I'll get him back, that everything will work out ... until I look up and notice someone, a dark shadow looming in the doorway across the room.

Watching it, him, standing there unmoving for several minutes, there is something about the figure I see there, an outline I begin to recognize even in darkness that prompts me to move, spring into action.

Placing the baby safely in the bassinet beside Sara's bed I move toward the intruder quickly, purposefully, allowing my rapid approach to push him backward into the hallway, backward into the light. " I thought I made it clear I didn't want you anywhere near them, Mr. Burrows. "

Stepping up, into his face, forcing him around the corner on the off chance Sara may awaken and hear the two of us, I do what it takes to make myself equally clear. " And I think you know there is NOTHING you can to do that will keep me from my brother's daughter or the mother of his child..."

As I move in, shouldering him back with as much force as I dare, two suited men rush in, flanking him defensively on either side.

" I'm fine gentlemen. " With a hand in the air, stopping them where they stand, shooing them away, he levels his gaze on me as his voice drops to little more than a whisper. " The nurse informs me there is a family waiting room at the end of the hall. We need to speak ... in private. I have information you'll want to hear.  
Information that may make it possible for you to bring your brother safely home..."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

To See His Daughter

Time To Go II ( 5? )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Gesturing down the hall ahead of me, eager for him to lead the way, a firm shake of his head, a nod in my direction and down the hall makes it clear he prefer things the other way around and serves as stark reminder of what this man has been through. A reminder of exactly who it is I'm dealing with. " Not inclined to turn your back on any man, Mr. Burrows? Understandable. Follow me..."

The heels of my shoes echoing down the empty corridor are loud, heavy and, much to my displeasure, alone, leaving me forced into stopping where I stand with the realization that Lincoln has yet to take a single step toward joining me.

Looking back over my shoulder, I watch him standing there, unmoving, arms crossed defensively over his chest in the doorway for Sara's room. " You're very protective of my daughter and granddaughter? I appreciate that fact.  
One of my men will stay at her door while the other stays with us so we can speak in private. "

As the guard, my man, steps in to stand beside him I get the feeling that well trained - best this country has to offer, or not, the younger man determined to protect my family would win out easily over the trained professional.  
" I'm here to help, Mr. Burrows. He will not leave that doorway. I assure you Sara and the baby are safe in his capable hands"

" Her name is Emma... Emma Elizabeth..." Slowly but surely the larger man's stride falls in line and keeps pace with my own, drawing nearer my back to make himself heard as we walk along.

" Emma Elizabeth Scofield. "

" I recognize Sara's mother's name. Am I correct to assume the other to be that of your own mother? " I catch him nodding his reply out the corner of my eye as I reach over to open the door to the small private waiting room. " Right in here ... please. Just a few moments of your time. "

Once inside, guard posted at the door, I cross the room quickly, understanding the game of power and pride between two men with so much at stake. I take a seat in a large leather armchair offering myself defenseless , non threatening, allowing him the upper hand in hopes of making my point as quickly and easily as possible. "Mazatlan...perhaps inland from there. Either way the last information I was able to obtain put your brother in the vicinity of Mazatlan on the Pacific coast..."

" You've been tracking Michael? " Thick arms still crossed over his broad chest, I watch carefully as the visible hand lying a top his biceps fidgets, opening and closing often until it balls into a tight fist.

" I was, yes...however I have nothing on his whereabouts past that point. "

The look in his eye as he watches me, threatening, unflinching, makes fighting the urge to stand, be prepared to defend myself, difficult to say the least, as he speaks, distain dripping from every word.  
" You were looking for him so you could see him stand trial ... make sure he was sent back to prison where he belonged? "

" Yes, Mr. Burrows, that was my intention when I began searching for your brother. "

He takes a step forward maintain his defensive posture so close now that he is looming above me. " And now? What are your intentions now..."

" There is a child involved. A child that can be hurt by all of this, Mr Burrows.  
Find your brother, bring him home, so his child, the mother of that child, my daughter, won't waste away a lifetime worrying wondering where he is... "

" You want me to bring him home so you can lock him up and throw away the key? I won't help you do that. "

"That would hurt both of them far more in the end. No! I have something else in mind... "

Tiring of being submissive, growing weary of his threatening proximity and body language, I gesture past him to the matching chair facing me just behind his body.  
" Please sit... I'd be more than happy to tell you what I know. To tell you what I can do to help you if you'll just take a seat and listen to what I have to say. "

Greatly relieved to see him move reluctantly toward taking a seat, I waste no time telling my tale. " Mr. Bagwell seems to have hated your younger brother a great deal, Lincoln."

" T Bag?.. "

Lincoln's face twists in disgust with the words and I'm left wondering if it is my use of his first, the mere mention of Bagwell, or a combination of the two that puts him in such a state. " He committed suicide just to frame Michael for a murder he didn't commit ... yeah I'd say he went the distance when it came to hating my brother. "

" The man was not well. He liked to play games ... play with people? "

He nods his agreement sliding forward to the edge of his seat as he listens.  
" Would you be shocked to hear the man was playing with me as well, Lincoln?"

Seeing confusion written all over the man's face, leaving him able to little more than shake his head in response, I know, feel, the time has come to finally show my hand. " I heard from him several times while Sara was missing. No one, other than my personal asst., was aware of it but the man was in contact with me often as he trailed the three of you across country. Treating him as a less than credible source all along I eventually received an envelope containing pictures of Sara and your brother, the kind no father ever wants to see, confirming that he was close enough to the three of you to have hidden himself away in the same room as my daughter and your brother completely unnoticed."

The man before me nods uncomfortably, obviously aware of the incident of which I speak, to the point he appears to believe all that I've said and is suddenly eager to hear more.

" Go on..."

" The next thing I knew I was watching news reports that Bagwell had been murdered in Las Vegas, that your brother was wanted in connection with the slaying, and my daughter, found safe in San Diego, was on her way back home..."

Equally eager to share, a dark thrill pushing me forward I move my body, mirroring his posture, to the edge of the chair as well. " The man, his games, slipped completely from my mind until one last letter containing a recording he'd made found its way discreetly into my possession "

" What recording? What the hell are you talking about? "  
I can see a fire of rage begin to burn in his eyes and for the first time understand, see that temper, the lack of ability to control it, that brought this man to the position he was in when he wandered into my daughter's life.

" Mr. Bagwell recorded a full detailed confession regarding what he planned to do to himself and how he intended to frame your brother for his murder..."

Tension robbing him of the ability to sit he moves quickly to his feet towering over me yet again as he speaks. " What kind of recording? How? Where is it! I want to see this recording. "

" It's a DVD ... judging from the setting and quality I assume he made it at one of those tourist kiosk, inviting people to play the star, to make a record/video, for the right price on their sun soaked vacation. I have it in my possession. It is safe, and you will see it when I'm ready to show it to you, Mr. Burrows. Find him, bring your brother home, and I'll use my influence alongside the confession to see that your brother walks away a free man."

He looks down at me, the desperate need to have his brother back barely hidden behind a thin mask of suspicion on his face. " Why would you do that? All you've done since the moment she returned is beg her to put Michael behind her, threatened me to stay away from her... Anything to be rid of us and now you want to clear his name? What's in this for you... What is it you want in return? "

" You're a far smarter man than people give you credit for Lincoln... "

With that I rise to my feet stepping in close and meeting his eye. " I want you and your brother out of my daughter's life for good. She won't let him go. She'll never let him go unless he tells her to. Sara can still have a normal life, a decent husband, more children, a good stepfather for her daughter, if your brother tells her he doesn't want her. If he lets her go. I'm willing to give him his life back if he walks out of hers for good."

" You're crazy, Michael would never give up his child to save himself..."

A smile of satisfaction, ugly in a way, almost wicked, gratified at the notion of getting exactly what I want spreads over my face as I deliver the bottom line.  
" He doesn't have to give up the child. I'll see to it that legal visitation is established after he is free if he does what I ask..."

" Find that brother of yours and tell him if he ever wants to see HIS daughter, other than from behind bars, he has to give up MINE, for good! "

TBC...

Next time: An unexpected lead puts Lincoln hot on the trail of finding Michael.


	6. Chapter 6

I Found Him.  
Time To Go II ( 6? ) 

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Frank Tancredi told Lincoln he had information that would clear Michael's name making it possible for him to finally come home, see his baby girl.  
But to get it, see his little girl, Michael has to agree to give up Sara for good!

He's pissed.

I knew he'd be pissed, that was part of why I did what I did, but I had no idea just how pissed he'd be and...

WOW! He's REALLY pissed! "

Standing just outside the door, leaning to one side against the wall to avoid being seen if he should suddenly come to the window, I can hear him stomping around in there like a rampaging elephant.

I knew Veronica would track him down the instant I took off on her, but it didn't matter at the time.

It doesn't matter now.

I did what I did for a lot of reasons and, like it or not, he's going to hear - maybe actually listen, even understand - each and every one of them.

While he's never hit me - I really don't think he would - I wait, listening for his footsteps to move away, waiting for him to be as far away from the door as possible,  
so as to avoid being pounced on when I make my move to slip inside.

While we may have not lived as father and son long, had all that much time together before all this happened, he's slipped into the protective Dad role with ease. His parental senses, especially when I'm screwing up, are keen as any I've seen.

The tiny squeak from the door hinge grabs his attention from all the way across the House - in a completely different room - and sends him thundering down the hallway toward me. " What the fuck were you thinking, LJ? "

As he just keeps on coming, full speed, I think perhaps he may actually do it this time around - kick my ass right through the door behind me. " Thinking? What the hell am I saying? You weren't thinking! Running off to Mexico to get drunk, get high with your buddies? If you had a brain in that thick skull of yours at all you'd of... GOD DAMN IT, LJ!"

He stops so close I swear I can feel the heat from his rage on my skin right through my clothes, hovering, bearing down on me switching from anger to guilt trip with ease " I've waited over three months to go looking for your Uncle Michael.You knew how frustrated I was waiting for a chance to go, but you didn't give a shit, did you? You didn't give a damn about me or your Uncle Mike. All you cared about was partying with the guys...

" Haven't you learned anything from me ... learned anything my life, LJ?"

His breath is hot against my face and I close my eyes tight, breathing deeply, certain I'll find him drunk like I can recall him being from time to time when I was just a kid, only to feel even more guilty at not finding even a hint of the scent of alcohol on his breath. " You're barely seventeen years old, LJ. Why the hell would you pull a stunt like that? I really want to know ... tell me! "

Looking up at his face, into his eyes, I find myself fighting the urge to blow him off, tell him ' forget it, you'll never understand ' - because that what guys my age say to their angry fathers at time like these - but I don't do it because I need him to understand.

I did what I did hoping, at least partially, to make him understand and there was no turning back from that now. " I may be seventeen, but I don't feel it. Everything that happened to you, to me, Mom, changed me and you just don't see it. I'm not gonna really fuck up... I've seen every imaginable result of fucking up and know better than to get anywhere near any of that. I did it because it made me feel normal."

He takes a step back, giving me space, anger fading a little in his eyes.

" I did it because I actually have a few friends now - guys that, even if they can be jackasses sometimes, seem to like me enough not to spend all their time asking what it was like to be in jail, kidnapped, to spend a week locked in a car by an escaped murder/pedophile. "

Even if deep inside I believe he won't understand no matter what I say, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, look him straight in the eye, and tell him how it really is.  
" These guys thought to ask me to go to Mexico with them, stay at their parents condo, drink beer, and chase girls instead of asking if and how many times T bag bent me over a table and fucked me up the ass. It was a screw up to go, I know that, but it felt right.

"Screwing up like guys my age do ... arguing with you after the fact feels normal and you have no idea how badly I needed to feel like other guys my age."

Talking about it, saying the words causes a lump to rise up in my throat.

Holding it in, fighting back tears because I'm a man and done with that kind of thing I ask for his understanding. " You of all people should be able to understand what it's like to want to feel normal again.

" I didn't set out to worry you. I didn't do it to make you angry. I just needed this for me ... and I'm sorry." Without a word, he reaches out placing his hand on my shoulder, squeezing firmly, offering up a desperately needed nod of understanding.

Eyes closed, my head hanging low, allowing the tension to drain away, I mumble what I know he needs to hear most.

" There something else ... something you need to know. Something important."

" Important, huh? You already said you had enough sense to avoid that law in general so, either you got yourself tattooed or you knocked up some girl."

" Well, I'm pretty sure I didn't ' knock up ' anyone... "

Standing there, staring at me, he breathes a mock sigh of relief, waiting for what it is I have to tell him until it hits him. " Wait! You didn't say you didn't get a tattoo ... did you get tattooed in Mexico, LJ? "

I nod my response, waiting, watching his face carefully, having no idea how he'll react, only to see him basically shrug it off. " You got tattooed? Huh! Well, that's fairly stupid at your age, pretty painful, but ... important?"

" It's not the tattoo. It's the ' getting it ' part that's important."

He looks at me, uncertain, downright confused, and the entire argument - everything bad - is washed away with the realization of how much it means to me to be able to tell him, to give him something he needs so badly.

" Getting the tattoo led to something else...Dad, I found Uncle Michael."

He takes another step back, reaching out, placing his hand flat against the wall, steadying himself as if he may topple over from shock without realizing he's doing it. " Michael? Is that a joke? What do you mean you found Michael?"

" Just what I said... I found him." The moment I say the words, finally get it off my chest, exhaustion hits hard causing me to lean hard on the door at my back. " I meant just what I said. I know where he is. I'll tell you where to find him. I'm beat, Dad, sick of standing here arguing at the door. If we could just go in there, sit, I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Without answering, he turns and makes his way quickly into the living room, glancing cautiously over his shoulder to be sure I'm there following behind as he goes.

I keep waiting for him to say something, anything at all, but he doesn't say a word as he takes a seat in the armchair watching my every move, waiting to hear what I have to say. " Salagua, on the Pacific coast. That's where he is."

He nods his head and I can see him carefully committing my words to memory as if they might somehow slip his mind and he'd lose him all over again if he didn't.

" Ryan's dad's condo is on the ocean in Manzanillo. We were there a few days before we got the bright idea to get tattooed. I didn't give it - him - too much thought until we were actually there getting it done. The guy was working on me, it hurt more than I expected, so I distracted myself by thinking about the few times I saw Uncle Mike's tattoo. As the guy worked - his English was pretty good - we talked a lot and I mentioned I knew someone who'd had their upper body fully tattooed. Told him I was considering doing the same. Asked him how long it would take ... had he ever done it for anyone ... then out of the blue he told me while he'd never done it himself, he knew a man in his village who'd had it done."

Looking over at my father, seeing emotions playing across his face, the kinds -  
raw, real - he's never allowed me to see, I can't get the rest of the story out of me fast enough. " He told me the guy was young, alone, that he'd come to Salagua after losing his family in California just over a year ago. I tried to get more information, letting him believe my interest was in the tattoos alone, but he didn't know all that much. He said the man kept to his self. That he'd hardly seen the tattoos at all and never up close. That this man happened to lived by the river where he fished in the evenings. That he'd only seen glimpses of them when the man would sit shirtless on the hilltop enjoying the ocean breeze while watching them fishing below."

He leans forward in his seat challenging me with his words. " What makes you think it's Michael? That man could be anyone, LJ."

" I just knew it was him. I could just feel it somehow. But I knew that wasn't enough, so as soon as I was done I took the car and went there to see for myself.  
It was him ... it is him, Dad. I went there, waited, and saw him for myself."

" You saw, Michael?

" Yeah."

" You're positive it's him? "

" Positive. "

" What did he say, LJ? "

Getting to my feet, crossing to him slowly, I dig the tightly folded piece of paper from my pants pocket, handing it to him while I speak. " I didn't talk to him. He never saw me. I was afraid if he did he'd run and you'd lose him again because of me. I made sure it was him and came home as fast as I could. Everything you need to find him is on that paper."

Standing there in front him, wanting nothing more than to please him, win his approval, he takes the paper from me with his left as his right hand moves up to pull the sleeve of my t-shirt up and over my shoulder, tracing the outline of the heart - dagger through the center of it - on my arm with the tip of his finger. " So this is it, eh? Is that your mom's initials on the handle? "

I nod, drawing back a little at the sensation of his finger pressing against the tender flesh.

" It's pretty red, LJ. Did you put anything on it? "

Having not looked at it or given it a second thought in days, I turn my head to the side looking carefully at it as I pull the material of my shirt higher over my shoulder to gain a better look. " No... I... I haven't even looked at it. As soon as the guy was done I took off to find Uncle Mike and never gave it another thought. "

Patting my arm firmly, making me wince with pain, while stuffing the paper into his pocket, he moves away fast, snagging his keys from the nearby table, slipping bare feet into his shoes as he goes. " The fridge is full. Still stocked from when Veronica was gonna stay with you. Relax, get yourself something to eat and I'll be back in a little bit."

" Yeah, all right... Where are you going?"

He looks over at me, spinning the keys on the ring around his index finger,  
smiling a smile more real that I can recall seeing on his face in many, many years. " I'm gonna go get you some antibiotic ointment. You wanted a tattoo. Went right out there and got yourself one.. now you gotta take of it. "

" What about Uncle Mike?

" Uncle Mike? " He spins the ring of keys off his finger high into the air, catching them in his fist with a swipe of his hand before they can hit the floor.  
" I'll get you, that new tattoo of yours, all situated here and then I'll go get your Uncle Michael and bring him back home where he belongs."

TBC...

Next week: Lincoln and Michael see one another for the first time since Michael walked out, down the beach toward Mexico, just over one year ago.


	7. Chapter 7

She's not mine. Time To Go II ( 7? )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.  
Last Time: LJ, in act or rebellion to get his fathers attention happened across Michaels location during a impromtu tattoo session on his trip to Mexico with the guys.

I didn't tell a soul what I was preparing to do.

After a day or two at home, by all accounts setting LJ straight after the stunt he'd pulled, picking up where I'd left off and heading back to Mexico to look for Michael seemed logical and beyond suspicion.

Only LJ knew the truth.

He knew because he was the one who brought it to me.

Things changed for us at that moment.

Veronica came to stay this time because he was under age and someone needed to be there, not because I thought he needed someone to watch over him.

The openness and trust, finally a real relationship with my only son, that grew between us in those two days together after he returned made me almost as happy as the thought of seeing Michael's face again did.

It was hopeful.

It was good.

It felt really good...

...all of it...

... with the one exception of not being able to tell Sara.

Going to see her and Emma to pick up the latest pictures of Em, ones I'd been meaning to drop by and pick up for over a week now, was the hardest thing I'd had to do in a very long time.

Standing there holding Em in my arms, listening to Sara plead with me to stay with my son ... to let Michael go... I wanted nothing more than to tell her I'd found him, and I was going to get him and bring him home to her.

I wanted to tell her the truth more than anything, but I couldn't bring myself to do it until I'd seen him for myself ... until I'd found a way to bring him home without losing his family.

My bag in the car, baby pictures tucked safely in my pocket, her hug and a soft kiss on the cheek telling me to ' please be careful ' as she takes Emma from my arms sets me on my way.

It takes most of the first day to get to Salagua.

The second day I nearly go insane stuck sitting in a cramped, hot hotel room staring at the four walls, waiting impatiently for the cover of darkness to set in.

I have no doubt that at first people kept tabs, watching me carefully and hoping to catch up with Michael through me. Over time, as each trip has come up empty, I've come to feel that I am now the only one still searching, certainly the only one still believing, leaving no one interested enough to bother lurking in the shadows behind me anymore.

Feeling certain I've not been followed, yet cautious with him so near, I wait quietly in my room for night to fall and allow me to make my way to him unseen.

A youthful life of crime, our time spent running to clear my name of the crime I didn't commit, serves me well as I move through the streets, shadow to shadow, blending in basically unnoticed as I find my way to his home.

While sitting in that room all day, and every step along the way to his home, I'd told myself that the instant I saw him, the instant I knew for certain it was him, I'd barge right through his door - no hesitation. I'd grab hold and hug him so fiercely, leaving him unable to draw breath until he ended up begging for mercy, pleading for me to let him go, like he did when we were kids.

But all that falls away as, approaching his door, I see him move to the window and look through it out into the darkness briefly as he reaches up to pull the shade.

Seeing his face for the first time in so long, all the things I need to say rushing through my head like a flood gate has opened at the sight of him, has the opposite effect of causing a knot to rise up in the pit of my stomach, so powerful it forces me to dart out of sight behind a bush.

Standing there in the dark, waiting, searching for the strength to go to him, the sound of a screen door slamming hard on squeaky hinges draws me around back to the tall wooden privacy fence lining the garden behind the house.

The fence, neat, level and perfectly aligned, something I'm guessing from one look he built himself, stands a good six feet in height and allows me, by hanging back a few steps, to keep hidden from sight until I'm ready for him to see me.

Listening carefully, I can hear him moving around the yard, the sound of dry twigs snapping between his fingers catching my attention right before the faint smell of smoke begins to fill the air.

Only a few minutes pass before I realize he is no longer moving. I hear no noise at all any longer, it's gone quiet behind the fence. It takes mere minutes for the sudden fear that he has slipped away, somehow gone, to push me forward up to the fence to be sure he is still there.

Rising up on my toes to look over, I steal a moment to watch him lean forward in his chair to poke at the fire that is growing bigger with each passing second in the large metal pot near his feet. I can't help noticing how different he looks from the last time I saw him, with skin deeply tanned from the hot Mexican sun and hair grown long by his standards, thick, dark and waving uncontrollably from the humidity.

It takes everything I have in me to speak, my voice cracking as I do.  
"Michael?"

His eyes, never changing - always the same, drift upward to meet my own.  
"Linc?"

Shocked, left unable to speak, my nod of confirmation prompts him up onto his feet. He closes the distance between us, throwing open the wooden gate forcefully and stepping through to me without hesitation. "I can't believe it's you..." His arms wrapping around me, pulling me to him hard as he speaks, take me back in time to the relief on the heels of desperation I felt when I did the same thing to him during the riot at Fox River. "It's so good to see your face!... I can't believe you're really here..."

A noise, something moving in the tall grass nearby, startles him and causes him to let go of me as he takes several steps backward through the open gate. "You were followed?"

For a moment I'd forgotten where we were.

Forgotten the circumstances that had brought us here.

But that doesn't last.

The look in his eyes, the tension and worry of fearing someone was watching - one step behind, always hot on your heels - something I personally know well, is written in his stiff defensive posture as he slips back into shadow, reminding me what it's like to hide as a way of life. "No one followed me, Michael. I was careful..." Looking around, I see from of the corner of my eye the tip of an orange and white tail, flicking occasionally above the high grass just behind me. " ... it's a cat. It's just a cat, Michael. Maybe we should go inside?"

"Yeah ... maybe that's a good idea"  
Eager to be out of sight he turns on his heels, moving quickly. He draws me with him every step of the way, through the gate, careful to close it behind us, and into the house just beyond.

Tucked safely indoors, seated across from one another at the small dining table, cool drinks in hand, talking as if little or no time has passed, I can't help wishing that things were different, that there was nothing pulling me back and I, we, could stay here together like this forever.

Taking his time he asks, cautious yet curious, how I found him. He shakes his head and clucks disapprovingly about LJ's tattoo adventure until I remind him I wouldn't be here at all without it. He asks about nearly everyone and everything he'd left behind, omitting only one.

"Aren't you going to ask me about Sara, Michael?"

He fidgets at the mention of her name, reluctant to meet my eye, head hung low. Dragging his hand over his head, his fingertips dig hard at his scalp through thick hair damp with sweat as he speaks. "I hadn't planned on it. It's been a year, and I imagined, I hoped, she had put it all, me, behind her and moved on with her life."

Listening to his words, feeling the smooth gloss of the photo in my pocket under my fingertips, I realize I can't wait any longer and rise from the chair to my feet. "There something I need to tell you..." Stopping just over his left shoulder, I pull the picture out of my pocket and lay it on the table in front of him as I speak "... something I need to show you."

Standing there waiting for his reaction I find myself caught off guard, not understanding what is happening as he looks up to me, photo in hand, smiling. "She's beautiful..."

He pats my arm hard, grinning knowingly. "You didn't waste any time, did you? The dark hair, those eyes, it looks like she'll end up looking more like Veronica than you, thank goodness."

Understanding his mistake, knowing I need to set him straight, I reach down over his shoulder and turn the photo over in his hands.

"She's not mine, Michael."

His hands, suddenly holding the picture as if it might break, begin to shake as I watch him read, his lips moving yet not making a single sound, the words written in Sara's hand on the back.

' Emma Elizabeth Scofield. 3 Months old '

"She's not mine..." He looks up at me, stunned, his eyes filled with tears I know he won't be able to hold back much longer. "She's yours... your little girl, Michael...yours and Sara's."

TBC...

Next time: How does Michael react to the startling news that he is a father? 


	8. Chapter 8

Title: You're her Father Series: Time To Go II ( 8? )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Lincoln discovered Michael hidden away in Mexico just in time to tell him he was a father

" Is she healthy ... is Sara okay? "

Standing behind me he grips my shoulder firmly, a good thing since I suddenly feel as if I might tumble from my chair to the floor from shock. " Yeah, Sara's fine. The baby, Emma, she healthy ... she's perfect, Michael."

Turning the photo over in my hand, my vision so clouded by tears I can barely read the words my mind does the math, discovering her birth date, mentally noting it, before it begins, against my will with another calculation. " She knew... you knew. You both knew in San Diego!"

My stomach twists into a tight knot anger welling up to meet all the other emotions swimming around in my head. " YOU! You knew she was pregnant and you sent me away anyway."

He squeezes my shoulder, hard, letting go of me, moving back to the chair his eyes down, unwilling to meet my own, studying the floor in what feels like a confession. " No. She was already six months pregnant when I found out, Michael. She called V and asked us to meet her for lunch..."

He looks up unflinching, determined, the you'll listen and believe me look, I know well from a lifetime together, on his face. " I didn't know in California ... as for, Sara she knew but all she could think of then, all she still thinks about, right or wrong, Michael, was that you'd be safe if you ran away. "

" If you'd have come back you'd be in prison right now..."

Watching his face I see a hint, the shine of moisture - tears, something I can't recall ever seeing him shed no matter how bad things got, glistening in his eyes as he speaks. " She's just a baby right now but she'll grow up and believe me, Michael, her thinking of you, seeing you that way would be more than you could stand. I know what I'm saying... its something you'd never want for your child."

He leans back in the chair, fidgeting with his hands on the table, watching them instead of me. " I'm sorry. I know this hurts you but she was right to do what she did. If she'd told you, you would have stayed right by her - their side - right up until the moment they tossed you in a cell and threw away the key. Sara understood that and you know as well as I do... your daughter deserves more than that, Michael."

Nodding, because admitting your older brothers is right is tough no matter how old you get, I get up turning away from him walking absent-mindedly to the door, my mind searching for something, anything to occupy itself before settling on the loose handle on the screen door.

" What goes around comes around, I guess"

I keep my back to him busying myself with jiggling the door handle my eyes fixed on the screw, in need of several turns of a screwdriver, wobbling in place. " When you tried to tell me about him I refused to hear you. There was more to it and I knew it but it was easier to believe what I'd always believed. To believe he was no good and stand firm that nothing you said would change my mind."

Knowing I can't hide any longer I turn around to face him with the ugly truth. " The truth never changed how I felt about him, Lincoln. What he did to her... to all of us...To my mind there were no excuses. A man who'd walk out on his unborn child is a man that's no good. My feelings haven't changed so it's best that she come to understand I am the same and forget I ever existed. "

Seeing his face, realizing he's on the verge of arguing I move back in taking a seat grabbing hold of his forearm lying limp across the table. " She's little now, she knows nothing about me. She's better off never knowing. You could... Would you... for me, let her believe you're her father? V would understand. She'd go along with it, I know she would. Emma would believe. All kinds of parents end up apart for all sorts of reasons. She'd have Sara, V, LJ, ... she'd have a family. You'd take good care of her...

" She'll grow up with a father if you'll do this..."

" You're her father, Michael! "

He takes my hand from his slapping it down, making it clear that not only has he no intention of doing what I've asked, he's angry I'd even dared to ask it. "She's yours and YOU are going to be the one to raise your little girl. "

Opening my mouth to speak, more than willing to put up a fight he stops me before I can say another word. " I won't do it, Michael. I have been and will continue to be there for anything they might need, I promise you that, but they won't need me much longer because you're going to come home and take care of you daughter for yourself soon enough."

I feel bad doing it, I can't help thinking in the back of my head how ridiculous my assurances must have sounded to him back at Fox River, but I laugh at the hopelesslness of the mere suggestion. " I know you mean well but its not possible ...its not going to happen, EVER, and its better if both of us, everyone, understands and accepts it."

" I'm going to stay here tonight, Michael. Can't bear to let you out of my sight just yet." He stands up pulling a cell phone, power cord still attached and hanging, from his pocket laying - pushing it toward me, on the table between us. " Then, tomorrow I'm going to go back home and make this happen. Keep that phone charged and handy at all times so I can reach you if I need to."

As I reach for the phone he catches my hand, pining it down, covering it with his own. " You saved my life, Michael. I owe you everything. I didn't believe you then but you swore you'd do it and you did. It's your turn now. When I tell you I'm going to get you home to your daughter I mean it. You'll just have to have a little faith..."

TBC...

Next Time: Lincoln gets busy finding a way to bring Michael home to his daughter. 


	9. Chapter 9

Title: To Bring Him Home Series: Time To Go II ( 9/16 )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Michael learned he was a father and Lincoln vowed to find a way to get him home to his family.

More than a week back home trying, failing each time, to come up with a way to bring him home, I was relieved to find myself alone for an evening. Having gotten nowhere, my brain was on overload, running one feeble scheme after another. I knew it was time to slow down and give it all a rest for a least this one night.

Some spicy take out under my belt, a double header about to hit the airwaves, I figured I'd put it all aside for a little while, park myself on the couch, relax as best I could and start fresh in the morning.

It was a good plan that fell flat the very moment I hit the cushions, feet up, remote control in hand, the doorbell rang.

I was certain it was Veronica, she knew something changed on my trip to Mexico and had been like a dog with a bone, riding me to talk to her about it. I peeked through the blinds on my way to the door, stopping my progress, frozen there, shocked, to fine a black sedan instead of V's car parked in my drive.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, each and every muscle in my body tenses, as the doorbell rings again accompanied by a firm knock and a voice I recognize easily through the closed door.

"Open the door... I need to speak to you, Mr. Burrows. "

Standing at the door leaning forward, allowing my head to rest against the smooth surface in frustration, his continuing to rap gently, I resign myself to the fact that as much as I've tried to find another way, the ability to bring Michael home lies in this man's hands and I have no choice but to hear him out.

Opening the door wide I reach out taking hold of the frame, wedging myself in the opening making his being here less than welcome as clear as possible.

"Just you? Where are your right and left? Isn't flying solo a little dangerous for man like yourself? What WILL people think?"

My best, well practiced, sarcasm - psychical intimidation falls flat as he looks me in the eye unflinching.

"They'll think, because it is important to my daughter, I've taken steps toward mending fences with the uncle of my grandchild. Which is exactly what Sara believes is my purpose for being here..."

"You told Sara you were coming here?"

He leans in, well practiced in his own right, with a sneer of defiance I know must have made many a politician quake in their shoes.

"Yes... I told her I was coming here tonight. Told her why. Do you want to be the one to tell her you slammed the door in my face or shall I, Lincoln? This will be a lot easier for everyone involved if you take a step back and allow me in to speak my piece."

The instant I step aside he moves quickly through the door down the short hall and into the room beyond as if he owns the place.

"Your son is out? We are alone ... can speak freely? "

Slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glass insets in their frames, I follow the sound of his voice, nearly as pissed off that he's here as I am eager to get him the hell out the door.

"Yeah ... he's out ... not that its any of your business."

"We're alone. He won't be back for hours. I've got the place to myself, had a peaceful night planned that you most definitely don't figure into, so how about you say what you came to say and get the hell out."

Watching me careful he leans back half sitting half standing bracing himself against the back of the couch.

"You found him."

Opening my mouth to deny what I can tell by the look in his eyes he already knows to be truth, he lifts a hand to the air, stopping me before I can speak.

"Don't bother lying. I had you followed Lincoln. I know you found him, that you've been to see him and now thanks to you, I know exactly where to find him myself if need be."

I can't decide which is more appealing, beat the shit out of myself for being careless enough to be followed or wringing his goddamn neck for having his goons anywhere near my brother.

Wanting nothing more than to do both, putting every bit of strength I have in me into the task, blissfully releasing the tension I've had bottled up inside me since I left Mexico yet knowing far too much is riding on how I handle myself I fight the urge, standing still and silent waiting for what will come next.

"I have no intentions of harming your brother... "

While I say or do nothing I can see that the look on my face, body language, speaks loud and clear on my behalf as he stands quickly taking several tentative steps in reverse from me as he speaks.

"I have no desire to do anything that will give my daughter any reason to put him on a pedestal. Any harm that comes to him by my hand would tear her from me, binding her to him for good. I have and will go to great lengths to avoid that particular outcome. I've come here because I think its time we put into action what you and I discussed in the hospital the night Emma was born."

He continues, "Can I assume from my interaction with my daughter you've told her nothing of what we discussed that night ... that you haven't told her you found him? "

"No... I didn't tell her. "

I feel tired and beaten, so much so I ponder moving forward to reach and be able to slump against the sofa as I speak the words.

"Would I also be correct in assuming your main goal, more so now that you've seen him, is getting your brother safely home? "

"Yes."

Having moved back, a safe distance, just far enough, a good ten feet, he stops where he stands looking me over with pity, pleased with himself, confident he has the upperhand.

"Did you tell him he was father when you saw him? I hope that you did. Your brother, his past, his past behavior ... he doesn't strike me as the sort of man to turn his back on his obligations. He's aware that he's abandoned his child, Lincoln? "

I feel dizzy, sick to my stomach, and have to close my eyes, breathing slowly to keep myself from reaching across and tearing him apart with my bare hands.

"I told him."

"That's good ... very good! He needs to be properly motivated to allow you and I to help him help himself. We can move forward then... "

" ...I'd like to arrange for him to see her. "

I open my eyes slowly every other emotion suddenly lost in a sea of confusion.

"You want Michael to see Sara? I don't understand..."

"Seeing my daughter is incidental, hardly the point, I want him to see his child. He needs to have seen her ... held her in his arms ... understand what he stands to lose when you tell him what I'm offering. "

He takes a step toward me and as much as its against my nature to do it I can't help but back away.

"You haven't told him. I can tell you haven't. You don't want to tell him because you know what he'll do and you keep hoping there's some other way. But there is no other way to bring him home, Lincoln. You will do this because it's his choice and not yours."

Rage builds up in me so fast I, knowing threatening or worse yet hurting this man will undo any and all hope, I grab hold of the leather couch squeezing the material under my fingers, anchoring myself to gain control.

"Why would I do anything you ask when I have no proof that you actually have this 'recording' that will magically save my brothers life. I don't, WON'T do a damn thing without solid proof. "

He smiles, arrogant - the kind that makes me want to knock his teeth down his throat to hell with the fucking consequences, as he walks toward me.

"All taken care of... I told Sara I'd extend the olive branch tonight and if you were willing to hear me out I'd invite you to my home for dinner tomorrow evening where we'd bury the hatchet once and for all for hers and Emma's sakes. You'll come and I'll show you what you need to see. "

He walks past me toward the door pulling me reluctantly with him as he goes.

"Then... a couple weeks down the line - one big happy family - you'll take the two of them on a nice relaxing get away, after all this tension she'll be eager for a break... thrilled that I'd think she should include you, to somewhere just over the border where you'll have arranged for your brother to meet the three of you. "

"He'll see her. He'll see them both. He'll spend time with his daughter, come to want nothing more than to find a way ... any way ... to be a father to her at which point you'll sit him down and tell him what I have, what I'm offering and the one condition of my help "

Reaching for the doorknob he turns around looking me over with something like caring and compassion that serves only to make my skin crawl.

"I only want him out of Sara's life. You can have him back here safe and free. He can be there for her, watch his child grow up, but he can't have my daughter. "

His entire demeanor shifts, accustomed to the public eye - putting on just the right face, front, in case someone is watching, listening, the instant he opens the door.

"Good talk, Lincoln. I'm so relieved we had the chance, it was woefully past due. Sara will be so pleased. I look forward to continuing this tomorrow evening, don't forget 7pm, at my home..."

TBC...

Next time: Michael gets to see and hold his little girl for the very first time. 


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Like Any Father Series: Time To Go II ( 10/16 )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Gov meanie came to Linc telling him, now that he'd found Michael, it was time to put his plan to bring Michael home into action.

For weeks on end I'd found myself puzzled, almost afraid to question the odd relationship that seemed to be growing out of nowhere between my father and Lincoln Burrows. While that voice in the back of my head kept telling me my father had to be up to something, I took comfort in the thought that Lincoln's motives - trying to do what was best, getting along for mine and Em's sakes - were clear.

Believing that was the case, at least for his part, I stood back watching them with a mixture of bewilderment and relief, fighting off the nagging feeling that something was about to change until the night Linc showed up at my apartment unannounced.

As soon as I saw him in the doorway, I knew it would be that night, that I'd at last find out what it all meant.

Far from drunk but with the smell of smoke on his clothes and whiskey on his breath I knew he'd spent a fair share of time that night somewhere dark and smoke filled working up the courage to tell me something he'd been trying to avoid.

As he sat on the edge of the couch leaning forward, wringing his hands, nervous as I'd ever seen him, making me certain he was about to tell me a tale of ugly devious and hurtful things my father had done to him under the guise of a sudden friendship he looked over to me and whispered the last thing I expected to hear.

"I found him Sara. I've seen Michael. He's safe. I know where he is and I want to take you and Emma to see him in Mexico, at the end of the month."

Left unable to speak, not even bothering to fight back the tears, he scoots closer to me, taking my hand in his, smiling like I can't recall him ever smiling before.

"Things are quiet now. After everything you've been through no one will give much thought to you getting away for a vacation. I'll take the two of you for a trip and Michael will come to us there. "

My heart twists deep in my chest with fear, guilt and worry. " You told him about Emma? "

The smile fades fast, his head, hung low, shaking gently as tired eyes drift away from my gaze to the floor below. "I'm sorry, you should have been able to tell him yourself but I had to tell him, Sara. Sitting there with him I just couldn't keep anything that important from him. He need something to give him hope..."

"The three of you should be together. I'll do everything I can to see it happens."

Weeping openly, sobbing and sniffling, realizing that not only had he found Michael for me but seeing what he'd done to make peace with my father to cast off suspicion to the point he'd be able to take me to him I close the distance between us, throwing myself into his arms, pulling him tight to me whispering the only words I can say.

"Thank you, Lincoln ... thank you!"

It took nearly three more weeks to arrange it all but in the end no one seems to bat an eyelash when our unconventional little family boarded a plane for Acapulco.

There were times along the way I thought perhaps the people around us, my father, even Veronica, had begun to jump to the conclusion that Lincoln and I were becoming more than what we appeared. I was uneasy about it at first but in time he helped me to see what they did or didn't think didn't matter because anything they wanted to believe was more than fine if it cast off any suspicious of our real goal of going to see Michael.

After arriving, we took great care to make it appear to be just a relaxing sunny vacation and nothing more by spending the first three days there seeing all the sights and blending in unnoticed as the tourists we were supposed to be.

Having rented a comfortable condo in an upscale tourist filled part of the city we spent our time going to the beach, pushing a stroller through open air markets and seeing the sights just like any other family on holiday would do as we waited less than patiently for the fourth day to arrive.

While he'd warned me it would be evening, Michael far too cautious to come any earlier, before we'd see him I spent the entire day nervously fussing over every little detail of both our appearances.

By the time dusk set in I was so on edge I could barely stand still.

Sitting in the living-room, Emma catnapping in my arms, her head resting heavy on my shoulder, I kept one eye out the window hoping, no matter how obscured the view was, that I might catch a glimpse of him as he came up the walk.

So excited and scared, feeling as if I may jump right out of my skin I'm irritated by Lincoln, sitting in the overstuffed armchair nearby, clearing his voice loudly several times, before giving in and saying my name. " Sara.. SARA!"

Refusing to turn and look at him, afraid I'll miss Michael, I do what I can to shoo him away with words. "What?...I know I'm nervous Linc. I know I'm making you crazy, have been all day, but I can't help it. What? What is it that you want? "

He laughs at me, loud and strong, forcing me to glance over at him, to judge if he's close enough that I might be able to kick him in the shin as penance for his amusement at my expense without having to move so much it wakes Emma.

"When you think about it... the kind of man you're waiting for is more the sort to slip in the back door rather than ring the bell... don't you think? "

Having no idea what he's talking about but quickly getting the impression his words are less than random, I Iook up to him slowly, meeting his eye, my heart leaping at the proud smile on his face as he steers my gaze to the other side of the room with the tip his index finger.

"Is that what you're looking for? "

I look over so slowly, oddly afraid he won't be there even if I can already feel him in the room, and he's there standing in the doorway.

I'd planned to do so many things at that instant but when it arrives all I can do is look at him.

Like I can't believe what I'm seeing. I sit there taking in everything I can.

He seems so tall to me.

Too thin which only serves to make him look taller.

And tanned, so deeply tanned, prison doesn't exactly lend itself to a healthy glow, its all of sudden hard to picture him any other way.

Looking him over, I look up to see his eyes, tear filled, as mine find them fixed on the mass of pink slumped against my shoulder. I'm not the kind of woman to dress my little girl like a china doll as a rule but there was something about knowing her father would see her for the very first time that overrode that particular aversion making ruffles and lace a must.

Suddenly understanding that nothing is more important I rise to my feet, crossing to him, both of us standing before him, slowly brushing her hair back so he can better see her face.

"This is your daughter, Michael."

As if she'll break, he reaches out touching the fabric of her dress gently with the tip of his finger. "You should have told me, Sara... you should have..."

Stepping nearer, taking hold of his hand in mine, pinning it softly against her back, allowing him to touch, to feel her, I say the only words I'd practiced. "I'm sorry. I am, but these next three days could very well be all we'll have together so please, Michael, let us let the past go for now and can take what little we have..."

Tears begin to flow freely down his face, matching my own, as he pulls me near, wrapping us both up in his arms.

"Yeah ... okay... "

Holding us to him, careful not to squeeze her tiny body too tightly between us, he looks at her a long time, watching her sleeping before daring to touch her again, running his fingers through already thick dark hair, causing her to stir just a little bit in my arms.

"She's so beautiful..."

"She looks so much like you ... not a day has gone by that I haven't looked her face and missed you, Michael. I missed you so much..."

Shifting her up drawing her away from my body I get ready for the moment I've dreamt of since the moment I knew I was pregnant.

"Its time ... all I've been able to think of since the day she was born was that a day would come when I'd see you hold your daughter. Now is that time, Michael."

The fact that he backs away like I'm trying to hand him an angry cobra as he speaks makes me chuckle under my breath, happier than I ever imagined I could be. "I can't hold her... I don't know how to hold a baby, Sara... I'll drop her. "

Undeterred, settling her back against my shoulder, I take him by the hand pulling him over to the chair Lincoln vacated, apparently slipping out of the house nearly unnoticed, the instant Michael arrived. "Sit down, Michael Its easier sitting. You can do it "

The instant he's situated, knowing he'll put up a fight if I give him half a chance, I pass her down to him laying her gently, head on his shoulder, against his chest.

"See there you go ... nothing to it."

Looking down at him, both of them, understanding as he watches her, his eyes glues to her lying against him, that they need time alone I make a feeble excuse to leave them be. "I'm gonna go get something cold for us to drink and make up her last bottle of the night ... you'll keep an eye on her for me?"

Holding her snuggled against him rubbing her back in slow circles he looks up and me with the most wonderful look of pleasure and panic on his face.

"Wait... No!... you're leaving me with her? What do I do if she wakes up?"

Leaning down scrubbing my hand over thick wavy hair that will take some getting use to, I kiss his cheek and tell him all he needs to know. "I'll only be a few minutes. You'll be fine. If she wakes up... Well ... you're her father, Michael, you'll handle it like any father would."

TBC...

Next Time: The time has come for Lincoln to come clean with Michael on what it will take for him to come home to his daughter. 


	11. Chapter 11

You'll Go To Him Series: Time To Go II ( 11/16 )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Michael saw Sara and held his little girl for the first time.

I made myself scarce the first day and a half or so.

They needed time together.

I've done enough damage to Michael, and now by extension Sara and Em, that the last thing they needed was me hanging around and getting under foot.

I stayed away as long as I could, but running out of things to do with myself paired with the need to have a long overdue talk with Michael about what it would take to get him back home forced me reluctantly back to the condo in the late afternoon of their second day together.

With every thing quiet as I slip through the door, I make my way down the short hall, passing Sara's closed bedroom door, careful each step of the way to not to wake anyone during a well deserved nap.

Relieved to find my door open, avoiding the loud creak it tends to have, I'm surprised, glancing in from dark hall, to find the room occupied by Michael and Emma.

Standing in shadow outside, unnoticed, I take a moment to watch them.

Stretched out, laying on his side, head propped up on the palm of one hand, watching her as she sleeps curled up on a pale pink blanket next to him, he looks as happy as I can ever recall seeing him look.

Watching them together, I have the impulse to turn and leave, to do anything but tell him what I need to say, but one good look at him - barefoot, toes numbering eight,  
the dark ink on his arms standing out in sharp contrast against the plain white short sleeved T shirt - reminds me that what I see is the not the happy picture it should be and I can't wait any longer to tell him the truth.

As I enter, crossing the room and taking a seat gently on the edge of the bed,  
he looks up at me, smiling, offering a casual " hey, " making it clear to me that he feels as good as he looks.

" Where's Sara? Sleeping? "

He nods slowly, a hint of sadness and regret creeping into his voice as he speaks.  
" Yeah. She didn't get much sleep last night - I can only imagine what's been like for her trying to do this alone - so I figured the least I could do while I had the chance was watch Em so she could get a good long nap. "

He looks down, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze with what I can see is guilt already weighing heavily on him. " I should have helped her last night but..."

I jump in, cutting him off, hoping to make things easier - because making things easier for Michael is what I need to do. " But you weren't in there ... you were out there on the couch. "

He looks up at me nodding his head, slowly bringing his chin back to rest in the palm of his hand.

" Not that it's any of my business ... but ... well, I was kind of shocked when I came back late to grab a little sleep and found you out there. Is everything okay? "

He shakes his head softly, offering a weak, defeated smile.  
" God... Linc... I wanted to be in there, but I just couldn't. I've missed her so much.  
Think about her all time. I just knew if I got that close, I'd get carried away. "

I watch him and consider my words, knowing full well that this is one of those times when the ways in which our two minds work part company and what I'm thinking, what I'm about to say, is sure to be the wrong thing. " So? If she means that much to you, what could be wrong with getting ' carried away, ' Michael? "

The way he looks at me, his brow furrowed, obviously considering his words as well,  
I can tell he sees and understands the gap in our ways as well.  
" Well, for one thing, I told myself I wouldn't get carried away since I am, as they say, ' not prepared '..." He looks down at her, brushing the hair back from her forehead with the tips of his fingers. " I can't take any chances with having another one of these I can't be around to take care of..."

" Well, if that all it is..." Relieved it's nothing more, I lean up dragging my wallet out, digging through it quickly to get what I need, tossing the packet lightly on the bed near his feet. " I'm here to help, little brother! "

He looks down the end of the bed to see it lying there at his feet, then slowly back up to meet my eye with an amused smirk.  
" You, on the other hand ... always prepared. "

" Yeah... Well...what can I say... I learned that lesson young. "

With the smile wiped from his face, he looks back down with a heavy sigh to her lying there. " You're a wiser man than me on that point. If I'd been more careful... "

The thought that maybe he regrets her, yet knowing he never could and never will, stirs me to action, reaching out to take hold of his hand, grasping it firmly, drawing his attention back to me. " Wait just a minute! LJ is the best thing that ever happened to me...I wouldn't change a thing if it meant being without him. Things are hard now, but it will get better, Michael, and you're gonna feel the same way... I promise."

" Yeah...You're right. I know you're right. "

She fusses at his side - crying softly, the pacifier having fallen away as we talked - until he rescues it, returning it to her, soothing her like a pro with sweet words and gentle pats on her tiny back as he kicks the condom at me with his good foot. " It's not just that. When you get right down to it, it doesn't matter what I want. I have no future ... nothing to offer her. Best not to start anything now..."

Realizing I can't waste anymore time, tossing my wallet - the offered contents restored to its place inside - to the nightstand after closing the door, I grab the chair from the desk nearby, turning it around to sit facing him next to the bed.

" There's something important I need to tell you. "

Knowing me well enough to know when I'm serious, he says nothing, only nodding his understanding and willingness to listen.

" You can come home. I can prove your innocence and you can come home."

The way he looks at me, so calm, his silence telling me he knows there's more, a catch. " T bag, twisted fuck, taped a confession before he killed himself. It's all there, Michael - how he framed you, everything we need to clear your name all on one DVD."

" Who has it? "

Caught off guard by the question, being out of practice with one another, forgetting for the moment how perceptive he can be, I look over to him.

" I can believe it exists, sounds just warped enough for T bag. I'm sure you've seen it. You wouldn't take someone's word on something like that and I know you wouldn't tell me unless you were sure, but I can tell by the look on your face something's not right, Lincoln. You would have used it by now if you had it, so it stands to reason someone else has it ... that they want something in return."

" Sara's father has it, Michael. He'll give it to us, do everything he can to help clear your name.."

Still absently-mindedly rubbing her tiny back, he pulls his hand away bringing it up to his face, raking his fingers hard over his head in frustration.

" Let me guess... To get his help I have to turn my back on Sara and the baby?"

" No..."

My heart twists in my chest knowing full well what he'll do before I even speak the words. " Just Sara. You stay away from Sara and he'll do it - whatever it takes to clear your name and ensure your legal rights when it comes to seeing Emma. He said to tell you - you can have your daughter as long as you walk away from his."

Looking up at me, chuckling softly in defeated amusement under his breath, I do everything I can to stop him from saying the words I know are on the tip of his tongue. " We don't have to do this yet! I've been talking with the tourist trap video kiosk in Vegas and they're doing what they can to find out if they have a copy of what he recorded... Oh, and I've been talking with Frank, too. I'm trying to talk sense to him, Michael. I haven't gotten anywhere yet, but I'm not giving up on it and you can't either."

" Linc!"

This time it's him grabbing hold of my arm to reign me in. " There is no copy, Lincoln. He's not a stupid man. You know as well as I do, if there ever was one, I'm sure he thought far enough ahead to make it disappear. He's the kind of man used to getting what he wants. If this is what he wants he'll have covered all the bases and all the talking in the world won't change his mind."

Letting go of my arm, lying back down next to her, his head falling heavy on the pillow, he says exactly what I knew was coming...

" I won't abandon my child, Linc. You know I can't do that. You'll go to him and tell him for me. If that's what it will take to raise my daughter, I'll do what he asks. "

TBC...

Next time: Time running short leaves Michael no choice but to say good-bye, sending them all back home, to Sara, Em and Lincoln. 


	12. Chapter 12

Talk to me

Time To Go II ( 12/15 )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Lincoln told Michael what it would take to come home. Michael quickly made the choice to give up Sara so he could be a father to his daughter.

Frustrated with the situation, all of us preparing to go our separate ways first thing in the morning, helpless to change what was about to happen I took the chance of being spotted, seen by the wrong eyes, and went for a long walk alone while Sara bathed Em and packed their things for the trip home.

Walking back in after nearly ninety minutes, far longer than I'd intended to be gone, I'm surprised to find the living area empty, dark and quiet.

Starting down the hall heading toward the soft blue light from the television filtering under Lincoln's closed door I'm stopped where I stand by her voice, calling my name.

" Michael? Can you come in here a minute? "

Stepping through the door I can do nothing more than look at her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, damp freshly washed hair hanging down over her shoulders soaking the top of her T-shirt until it turns just the right shade of blue to match her well worn cotton pajama bottoms, she looks more beautiful than I ever imagined she could.

Looking around the room, because looking at her without being able to touch her is tearing me apart, I immediately notice the absence of the portable crib.

" Where's Emma? "

" She's with Linc... " She looks up and over at me watching me carefully for any reaction on my face leaving me wondering what will show there, nervous and uneasy about being suddenly alone together for the first time. " Linc offered to take care of her for the night. We need some time together. Time to talk..."

Whatever the look is it can't be good as she rushes in explaining away worry I've yet to voice.

" Lincoln loves Emma, Michael... he takes good care of her. "

Standing there trying to keep my cool stuffing my hands deep in my pockets, studying the floor instead of meeting her eye jealousy, the tiniest nagging bit of it, I can't hold down rears its ugly head.

" He's important to the two of you ... you've become really close?"

" He means the world to me, Michael."

Having no choice in the matter, the idiotic jealousy inside me turning into a full fledged green eyed monster with her words, my head snaps up, my eyes finding her oddly warm smiling face feeling as if I've been kicked in the gut. " I see... "

She grins at me shaking her head softly understanding my confusion perhaps worse yet seeing the hint of jealousy in my eyes. " I never had a lot of family. What I had wasn't what you'd call warm and loving. I like having a big brother to look out for me... Linc means the world to me in that way ... and nothing more. "

She pats the bed next to her pleading to me with her eyes. " That's one down, how many more to go... We haven't talked about anything. You know as well as I do there are so many other things that need to be said. Please ... sit down ... talk to me. "

Taking a seat, doing what I can to keep a reasonable distance, something she shatters by scooting across the bed to be closer to me the instant I take a seat, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

" You should have told me you were pregnant, Sara."

Expecting excuses, explanations, believing she'll defend her actions with everything she has in her I'm caught off guard by the simple open honest response I hear coming from her lips. "I"m sorry. I should have told you but I wanted you safe as much as I wanted the baby. I wasn't willing to take any chances with either one of you."

" Sometimes people do the wrong, even hurtful, thing, with the best of intentions. I hope you can see and understand that, Michael. "

She turns away from me sighing heavily bowing her head low enough that still wet strands of hair fall forward hiding her face. " It was wrong. I'm sorry I hurt you. You can be angry with me, hate me if you need too but you're not dead or in prison ... you're safe where you are. Both of you are safe. That's what mattered and I wouldn't change what I did even if I could. "

Watching her sitting there, hearing her voice crack with emotion as she speaks I cast aside my fear of being too close, my feeble attempt at protecting myself, by moving closer to her working my fingers slowly under her hand resting against her leg until her hand is tucked safely in my own.

" I don't hate you, Sara. Its just not possible...I'm not even angry anymore..."

She looks up, offering a weak half smile, tears filling her eyes threatening to join the ones already drifting down her pale cheeks. " I... its just ... you've hardly spoken to me ... gone out of your way not to touch me... I just thought... "

Seeing her in pain, knowing she believes I don't care all the arguments for not getting too close fall away all at once "I'm not angry. I DON'T hate you... I love you, Sara."

Without even realizing I'm doing it, desperately needing something to hold on to while I say the last thing I ever intended to say when I came to her I clasp her hand tightly in mine drawing her closer to me.

" I love you, Sara... I love our daughter. I want to be with both of you so much it hurts more than I..."

Before I know what's happening she stops me with a kiss.

Part of my brain, an ineffective part of it at that moment, screams at me to stop.

It whispers inside my head that letting her in now will only cause more pain for all of us.

But the pleading with myself, any attempt to step back is washed away by the feel of her fingertips caressing my face as her lips tentatively meet my own.

As she pulls back a bit, searching my eyes, waiting for a response, I'm taken back the first time we kissed in the infirmary at Fox River. " This feels familiar ... like we've done this before. I think my line here may be ' What do you want from me, Sara? '. "

I smile at her making light of the situation, doing anything I can to distract myself from the feel of her so near, doing whatever it takes to block out the sweet smell of her warm skin and freshly washed hair. " Tell me you're not gonna confuse the hell out of me by say something vague and cryptic like ' wait for me, Michael ' "

She leans in brushing her lips, soft teasing kisses, gently against my own in-between her words. " No...tomorrow we'll leave here... who knows when and if we'll ever see each other again... I'm not going to play games. This time together is too precious to me not to tell you exactly what I want. "

She slips even closer one arm wrapping around my waist while the other takes hold of my hand moving it upward trapped lightly in her delicate touch, coaxing it slowly over her hip and side, until coming to rest under her breast, before I know what's happening, she's leaning into my touch. " I want you to touch me, Michael. I want you to hold me. I'm asking you to forget tomorrow, everything that comes after that, and stay with me tonight. "

I stayed there watching her sleeping next to me, catching no more than a few winks here and there for hours on end but one quick glance to the digital clock on the nightstand reminding me that five am is not as early as it use to be when you have a six month old baby in the house and I need to be going if I plan to be gone before she wakes.

Gathering my things in my hands slipping through the door as quickly and as quiet as possible, dressing in the dark hallway as not to disturb anyone I'm shocked to find him sitting in a chair watching me as I tiptoe into the living room.

" You're gonna slip out before she wakes?"

Wishing I'd been able to slip away without having words with him as well, knowing it's no longer possible, I walk over, righting my clothing as I go, and take a seat on the couch next to him. " I can't say good-bye to her tomorrow ... not like that ... she doesn't know what's really happening, Linc. I can't face it. I hope she'll understand that one day "

He sets the empty bottle down on the side table hoisting my little girl to his shoulder patting her back softly coaxing a tiny burp from her as he speaks. " I don't know, Michael. Maybe she will ... maybe she won't. All I know is, historically speaking, slipping out before dawn when you've just shared a bed tends to have a negative effect on most women. "

Hearing her cry softly in his arms, something about it different - more urgent, and more than eager to change the subject I rise to my feet crossing to them laying the palm of my hand gently against her forehead. " She's so fussy ... feels warm. Is something wrong with her? She sick, Linc? "

Without warning he takes hold of my hand, hard, frustrated with me, or the situation - its hard to tell, bringing it down between the two us to her. '" She's just teething, Michael. That's all it is ... teething..."

He takes the tip of my finger guiding me until I can feel the tiny tooth just below the surface. " ... cutting teeth is hard on them but she'll be just fine once it breaks through. I'm gonna go grab the baby Tylenol from the kitchen. If you're not gonna say good-bye to Sara the least you can do is sit down here and say a proper good-bye to your daughter while I'm gone. "

" Thanks...You'll still do as I asked you to, Linc?"

Nodding his agreement he rises up to stand in front of me looking me over with all the sadness and regret, the only good-bye we'll share this time around, that his stoic face of his can muster as he slips her into my waiting arms and disappears into the other room.

My bag waiting by the door, knowing he'll give me enough time to say good-bye and slip away, holding her upright against my body, her tiny head tucked neatly against my shoulder so she cannot, as if it would matter or she'd understand, see me crying, I walk her down the hall to the bedroom drinking in the smell and feel of her near me with each step I take, before whispering my good-bye with a soft kiss against the top of her head as I place her gently into her crib.

TBC...

Next time: Will Lincoln do what Michael asked him to do? Will he finally tell Sara what her father has demanded in exchange for Michael's freedom?


	13. Chapter 13

Not Forever

Time To Go II ( 13/15 )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: The night before they are all to go their separate ways Sara convinces Michael to sit down and talk to her. Talking quickly leads to the two of them spending one last night together.

Waking up alone was far from a shock.

With all that was about to happen, getting him to stay with me at all was a bit of a miracle and I knew it.

He slipped away in the night just as I'd expected him to.

Rolling over to find him gone, I slide over into the spot he'd left hours earlier, resting my head, breathing deeply for any trace of his scent on the cold empty pillow next to me, remembering and stealing away one last moment together before the reality of life without Michael seeps back in.

Lying there tangled in the sheets recalling what it felt like to be wrapped in his arms after so long apart, the real world, in the form of a cranky crying baby, rushes back in through the still closed bedroom door, dragging me from my memories and the bed.

One quick glance over to the clock reminding me how late I'd actually slept I retireve my clothes scattered on the floor next to the bed, dressing in a hurry, stopping only a moment to check myself in the mirror before emerging to rescue Linc from, by the sounds of things, a very crabby little girl.

Round the corner into the living room, her cries dying down as I come in, I can't help but smile at the sight of her perched, gnawing fiercely on the frozen teething ring in her hand, on his gently bouncing knee.

"She sounds really fussy this morning. I hope she wasn't too much trouble... was she up a lot in the night?"

While I'm more than ready to save any serious discussion for a later date, he ignores my best attempt at small talk and looks up to me, his brow creased with worry as he speaks.

" I'm sorry... I told him not to leave without saying good-bye but he wouldn't listen."

Knowing I shouldn't do it because it's easy to see how much what he says means to him, I brush away his apology moving on selfishly needing any last bit of Michael I can get. " You saw him...this morning? Did he see Em before he left, Linc.? "

" We were up...I'd given her a bottle and some Tylenol for her teeth..." He looks at me with a sincere yet deeply sad smile on his face as he brushes her hair, clearly in need of a first trim, away from her face with his free hand. " I left them alone ... some time together ... when I came back she was asleep in her crib and he was gone. "

" Good!... I'm relieved to hear it."

Hoping it will ease his fears, knowing somehow it won't, yet wanting to try just the same I Iean over, wrapping one arm around his neck, offering a small kiss to his cheek while telling him what it is he needs to know. "I'm grateful he got to see Em but I knew he'd be gone, Linc. It's okay ... It is! I understand why he did it. If I had to turn my back and walk away from all of you, I know I wouldn't be able to look you in the eye as I left. It's just for now ... not forever ... and it'll be okay. "

Taking note of a big yawn paired with a tiny balled fists rubbing hard at tired eyes, I reach over taking her into my arms, her sleepy head finding its way instantly to my shoulder as I rise to my feet. " I'm fine. Everything is ... will be fine ... in time but for now we've got just a little over four hours before we need to be at the airport I'll put her down to nap so we can get packed..."

I spent the next three and half hours of packing, searching for a way to tell him that I hadn't been asleep when he told Michael about my fathers plans

Trying to find a way to tell him I heard every word they said...

That I knew what they had planned...

That I had come up with some plans of my own!

But in the end, I decided to say nothing.

A decision made mere minutes before he wandered into my room gathering up the bags to leave. " You got everything?"

One discussion relegated to the back burner I take the opportunity to have another that simply can't wait. " It's all ready to go ... you can take all of them in just a minute but first there's something I need to talk to you about. Sit with me? For just a minute... Please? "

Setting the bags already in his hands to the floor at his feet, nodding his agreement, stepping over them, reluctantly crossing the room, clearly uneasy about what it is I need to say, he takes a seat on the bed next to me without ever saying a word.

" I plan on seeing a lawyer as soon as I get home, Linc. I feel I need to get what will happen to Emma, if anything should happen to me, in writing as soon as possible."

Turning to look at me, brow furrowed, mouth agape, visibly startled by the subject matter, I reach over and lay my hand on his knee, stopping him before he can say a word. " I'm fine ... there's nothing to worry about ... it's just I need to know for my own piece of mind, something I'm sure you can understand after worrying what would have happened to LJ if they'd had the chance to get you back in that chair, what will happen to my daughter if I can't be there to take care of her. "

He nods his understanding slowly refusing to look up and meet my eye. " Yeah, I guess I can understand that..."

" If something should happen, Linc... if it ever comes to it ... will you take care of Em...find a way to get her to Michael for me? I wouldn't ask you but I can't take the chance of her ending up in my father's care."

His whole body tenses, his hand fidgeting nervously under my own at the mere mention of my father's name, making me consider telling him that I know everything one last time.

" He was never much of a father to me. Too many things meant more to him than being a father. He's not capable of putting Emma's needs first. I need you to be there to make sure someone does just that by getting her to her father. "

" Of course! " Without a thought of doing otherwise he gathers my hand in his, lifting it up and squeezing it firmly, reassuringly, kissing the back of my hand as he tells me exactly what I'd hoped he would say. " You're family, both of you and I'm here, going to stay that way, for anything you ever need, Sara. "

TBC... ( just a little bit more)

Next Time: What does Sara have in mind when it comes to handling her father and getting Michael back home to both her and Emma?


	14. Chapter 14

To Protect Them

Time To Go II ( 14/15 )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Sara wakes with Michael gone, Linc buried under the guilt of knowing what he must do when they return, and a certainty she can make it all right.

Making my father eager to meet and talk with me was easier than I'd hoped.

Voicing doubts about Michael was all it took.

Home a few days, having already handled several pressing matters essential to my plan, knowing full well he'd met with Lincoln and had been offered Michael's cooperation, I called him up, doing all I could to sound nervous and unsure while mentioning I feared Lincoln had found Michael, perhaps even seen him, without telling me.

As I suspected he would, he latched onto the notion instantly voicing similar concerns with insincere, manufactured words of disappointment and regret,  
proclaiming he only wants what's best for me ' which makes my stomach roll with waves of nausea.

Knowing that comfort and caring are only a part of the deal when they fit his larger agenda, I hesitate - for drama - as long as possible, working up the illusion of broken-hearted, tear-drenched emotion, giving his mind and ego time to smell victory on the horizon before offering up what I know he will be unable to resist. " I keep thinking ... what if... What if Lincoln is keeping him from me because Michael doesn't want me or Emma? "

He goes silent for a moment as if he's stunned, mulling over the possibility before offering reassurances he doesn't mean in the same smooth, confident tone of voice I've spent a lifetime hearing as he muttered campaign promises he never intended to keep.

Leaving him to it, not saying a word, knowing how his mind works far better than I care to admit, I listen to his words while he works the issue like the fine-tuned politician he is, stumping first for - and then against - until my lack of response prompts what I know is the inevitable last resort of a face-to-face meeting.

Oozing kindness, I wonder if he is even capable of feeling, aside from being part of a means to an end, playing the role of the caring father I never really had. " Enough of all that for now. Listen... I haven't been there for you though all this, like I should have, and I'm sorry. No matter what I felt or feel now, you're what is and should be most important to me. I want to make it better... make it right! I need to be there for you and my granddaughter. We'll work though this Scofield mess together ... somehow... I promise you that. For now, letâ€™s start with you and me."

Fixated on his goal, no thought of what it is a I want or need even daring to cross his mind, he issues a demand disguised as an invitation and sets the stage.

" You'll come to dinner tomorrow night. Spend the evening together. Well share a meal, talk, find a solution to your problem. Some time together...just the two of us."

Getting an evening free to do what I needed to do was easy.

Lincoln had been on me, endlessly, for months on end about the importance of making time for myself for both my own and Emma's sake, so the mere mention of dinner out with an old friend had him more than eager to take her off my hands, freeing me for the entire evening.

Motherhood brings on many changes, including a unique fiercely protective bravery in the face of anything that may harm your child. A change that serves me well and stops me from backing out, turning the car around, and slinking back home in defeat three separate times during the drive over to my father's home.

Fear and doubt do their best best to hold me back, yet fail miserably when forced to do battle with that tiny voice in my head reminding me that, in the end, nothing but my child's happiness really matters - something I know he doesn't feel, is likely incapable of understanding, if and when the thought should happen to cross his mind - pushing me onward until I am standing at the door.

My worst fears come true, strengthening my resolve all the more when he, upon answering the door, fails to ask after her, fails to notice her absence at all, as he greets me with the same polished, superficial demeanor I've seen him use on campaign contributors dozens and dozens of times.

Filled with bouts of broken, stilted small talk, dinner passes relatively quietly, allowing me to move quickly forward to getting him, both of us, into his office, near his safe, alone.  
" Senator Bailey is married, right? I'm not sure but I think I met his wife once.  
tall ... blonde? Donna, I think?

Curious at the mention, my finally saying something to capture his self-centered interests, he sets his fork on the plate with a loud clang, leaning gleefully back in his chair, waiting eagerly to hear what I have to say.

" Yes. That's right... Donna Bailey. Bailey's married, has been forever. Why do you ask? "

Knowing I have him hooked, eager to get myself into his office, to get my hands on what I need, I reel him in with what I know he won't be able to resist. " I saw him in Mexico last week. At least I'm pretty sure it was him... I haven't seen him in ages, but it looked like him, and if it was 'him,' he's got a big secret in the form of a tall, half-his-age brunette - most definitely not Donna Bailey - companion hidden away on a beach in Mexico."

" You're sure it was him? "

He sits up, leaning toward me, eager for the dirt, just as I knew he'd be. " You've got to be very sure on something like that, Sara. You're positive it was Bailey? "

" I'm pretty sure... I haven't seem him in a while but... Wait! He's in one of the pictures you have on your office wall isn't he? If I saw him again I could be sure..."

He nods and rises out of his chair, motioning for me to follow, a wicked half smile spreading across his face at the thought of getting the upper hand on a man better than himself.

Stepping inside the office, walking a few steps behind, having every intention of choosing just the right moment to confront him, I loose the ability to hold back the instant I hear the heavy door close behind me.

" Give me the disc..."

With his back to me, he stops in front the picture I'd convinced him I needed, frozen in place, considering his words before turning slowly toward me while offering what I'd anticipated.

" Disc? What disc? ...I'm afraid I have no idea what disc you're..."

Impatient, disgusted, every inch of my body aching with the pain - pain I've held back, refused to let take hold of me until that very moment of losing Michael - I reach into the bag hanging low over my shoulder, pulling it out as the bag drops to the floor with a loud thud. " You let me go through it alone. You had the power to bring him back all along but you let me go it alone! I delivered my baby without her father there. I was scared ... lonely... I needed him more that you could ever understand, and YOU kept him from me on purpose. "

Eyes trained on the gun in my hand, he speaks with and oddly smooth, even tone.  
" You're gonna kill me, Sara? Shoot me? You're acting crazy ... give me the gun.  
now ... please, Sweetheart. I'll get you help...we'll forget this ever happened..."

He tries to remain calm, speaking softly, soothing me like a child in a the middle of a temper tantrum, but a slight tremble in his hands resting limp against his sides paired with tiny beads of sweat forming on his brow gives his fear away.

Holding the gun firmly in both hands - suddenly steadier that I ever imagined they could be- I level it at his head, making my demands verbally, as well as psychically.

" Walk around the desk. SLOWLY Open the safe in the left hand bottom drawer and give me the recording T- bag sent you ... give me everything... all of it! "

He looks over, disappointment - something I'm more than use to seeing - written all over his face, watching my every move as he goes over to the desk.  
" Burrows told you? "

" He ... they ... they told me nothing! Not a word. They never intended to involve me, but I overheard them talking. They kept it from me because you told them they had to and, unlike yourself, they're good, decent men who keep their word. They did as you asked, following your lead, no matter what it cost them, because, unlike you, the one thing that mattered most, worth any price, was the welfare of my daughter."

Working the lock slowly, unable to give the dial proper attention, unwilling to take his eyes off me, he tries his hand at shaming me into submission one last time.  
" Look at yourself, Sara! Standing there with a gun in your hand. Threatening your own father? Drug addicts not enough anymore? Moving up - or is it down - to bedding thugs, common criminals? Burrows and Scofield are both human garbage... belong behind bars and now, here you are, my own daughter as low ... no better than either one of them. "

The last tumbler clicking loudly into place, he lifts the safe door up, retrieves the contents in one hand, rising slowly while tossing a stack of manila envelopes up onto the desk with an abrupt thwap.

" Take it! You're not fit to raise that child, not a one of you, and I'll see that none of you have the opportunity to do just that the second you walk out that door. "

Sweeping my bag from the floor, crossing over to the side of the desk,  
I slip the stack of papers from the desk top, along with everything that remains in the drawer safe, into the bag, moving in close enough to press the barrel of the gun hard against the side of his head.

" You don't talk about my daughter! You don't even dare to utter her name!  
It's time for you to do as I say for a change. Everything you planned to do to keep Michael away from me you'll do now to ensure he comes home to both of us..."

Ignoring my words, completely disregarding the gun pressed to his temple, suddenly far more distressed by something else, he reaches out trying desperately to grab hold of the bag on my shoulder. " Everything you needed to clear his name was on the desk. The rest of it...the other stuff in that drawer ... it has nothing to do with... "

" I'm sure it doesn't... "

Stepping back out of his reach, he stumbles over the chair leg, staggering backward, falling hard into the high-backed leather chair behind his legs. " It doesn't need to be about him...I've understood the importance of that desk safe since I was a teenager."

I pat the bag, the contents inside trapped safely under my arm against my side.

" If it's in that drawer, it's important and, while I don't know what it is I have in here, I DO know for certain there is something in there, a secret, some ugly lie you need never to see the light of day, that will ensure you're full cooperation until Michael is home, completely cleared of all charges, living a quiet, safe,  
life with his daughter and me."

Righting himself in his seat, he looks up to me with the most real, open, and sincere look on his face I can ever recall seeing as he pleads his case one last time.

" There are things in those files that can hurt me, Sara. Things that could ruin me if they got out. "

" I'm sure there are..."

I look to his face, sadden by the realization that it's now, only now - when I've learned to play his game...now, when I've given myself over to doing things on his terms - that we finally understand each other. " I have no desire to hurt you. It's simple...you hold up your end of the bargain and I'll keep your secrets."

He nods slowly, submissively, as he speaks, making it clear we have what constitutes our first real understanding.

" Since it doesn't look like I have a choice, I guess you have yourself a deal. Tell me what is you want me to do, Sara, and I'll do it. "

Backing my way slowly to the door, knowing for the first time he'll actually hear what I have to say, I lay it all out.

" Good! Glad to hear it. You'll do it all exactly the way you planned when you spoke to Linc yesterday afternoon with the exception that you'll call him first thing tomorrow morning and tell him you've had a change of heart. You'll tell him you were wrong to try and keep Michael away from me. So wrong, so guilt ridden about it all, that you asked me over here tonight to give me the recording we needed to save Michael."

" This man...he means this much to you, Sara? ...So much you'd do THIS to your own family?"

Locking the gun's safety into place before dropping it into the bag, I reach for the door, looking back to him, my hand on the doorknob prepared to walk away for good, offering one last truth I fear he'll never understand.  
"This 'man' ... our daughter, the child we have together IS my family now and you'd do well to understand I'll do anything it takes, always, without fail, to protect them. "

TBC...

Next time: ( The last TTG ever! ) Will Sara's father hold up his end of the bargain? Is Michael a free man? Does Sara at last have her family safely back together? With Michael back in the picture where does Lincoln fit into this family that has come to mean so much to him?


	15. Chapter 15

There For You

Time To Go II ( 15/15 ... THE END )

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.

Last Time: Sara makes it clear to her father that she'll do anything, blackmail and or violence if need be, to protect her family. Frank understanding he is beaten agrees to bring Michael back home to the people he loves.

I feel strange driving down the street.

I always do.

It took nearly six month to clear his name but Michael is a free man now and his place is here with his family.

In that six months, Michael unflinchingly stubborn in his insistence that he wait until his life was back in order before joining Sara and his little girl, I had my time with him. But that time ended two months ago and I feel somehow odd about seeing him at all now.

For four peaceful months the three of us lived together.

Father, Son and brother ordering greasy take out while parked on the sofa sharing whatever ball game was on all of us never saying a word about all that happened in the years before.

The scars ran deep, we all knew it, so we hardly ever spoke of it.

In our time together I began to see a dark under current running steady and strong between the three of us.

No matter how much we enjoyed or were grateful for it being together also served as a constant reminder of the worst horrors of our lives.

As good as those months were, I knew that wounds never really heal when you pick at them and since the mere sight of each other had the power to rub all our wounds raw, I made the choice to step back from Michael's life with hope he'd build a life for himself without me, the dark past we shared, hanging heavy around his neck.

I had no choice with LJ.

I was his father and would remain a fixture in his life.

Something I was able to make peace with because I knew if he kept his head on straight and his nose to the grindstone he'd head off to college, starting his own life, leaving me, the past, and all this misery behind, in another year or so.

LJ would have to wait but Michael I could set free right away.

Tree-lined and quiet, the neighborhood is everything I'd hoped for him.

The fact that Frank Tancredi in his sudden and sweeping change of heart insisted on purchasing it, suspicious to say the least, until they were "on their feet" doesn't change how perfect the house - all of it - really is.

Parked in the drive, sweeping the gift for Em off the passenger seat, feeling all the while as if I shouldn't be there, that I'm intruding even when he'd made it clear how urgent it was he see me today, I begin to make my way reluctantly to the front door.

Before I'm halfway up the walk he's out the door grinning, taking long quick strides, toddler perched on his hip, down the sidewalk to meet me.  
" About damn time! I'm getting a little tired of begging and pleading just to get you out here... Am I going to have to get you to move in down the street just so I can see you once in awhile or what? "

" Never gonna happen... suburbia is all you, not me, little brother. "

After a stiff hug, the best either of us can muster with a toddler trapped between us, we make our way inside, through the house, into the spacious, warm,  
littered with toys, family room that over looks the backyard.

Taking a seat on the couch, lifting one foot to the coffee table in front him, urging me to do the same at the other end, placing and trapping his one year daughter - at least for the moment- between the two of us, his smile and the words, sincere and heartfelt make me miss him more than I thought possible.

" God!... It's good to see you, Linc. I know you've got your own life, LJ to think about, but I miss seeing you..."

Watching him, feeling guilty about the distance I've put between us, I'm grateful for the amusing scene playing out before me - him scooting forward bringing his leg down blocking her path as she attempts escape - allowing me to change the subject with ease.

" Can't wait for them to walk but once they do ... life is never the same, huh? "

He laughs, nodding his understanding trying desperately to distract her by scattering wooden alphabet blocks over the cushions between us.

" Here..." I reach down, grabbing hold of the bag at my feet, laughing at his frustration as she eyes the blocks no more than a second or two before turning her attention and all her strength back to trying with all her tiny might to push his leg out of the way and break free.

" Maybe this will distract her for a few minutes? "

Waving the gift bag in front of her eyes, pulling her attention and hands away from the effort he pulls the heap of limp brown fur out of the bag and turns it over and over, clearly puzzled, in his hands.

" It's cute ... but ... well ... what is it? "

He looks at me smiling with that curious ' I need to know' look, one I've seen a million times dating all the way back to when we were just kids, as he rights the stuffed beast in his hands so it's looking him in the eyes

" A spineless teddy bear, maybe? "

" It's an otter... Teddy bears are mundane, Michael. Em's a special little girl... a teddy bear wouldn't do. She needed something as special and unique as she is. "

Obviously pleased, or at the very least curious, she takes the toy from his hand climbing up, awkward, trying with only marginal success to hold the toy and make her way up at the same time, closely examining and stroking it's fur coat once situated between us.

Watching them together, her scooting close to his side as he brushes the hair away from her face, feeling as if I'm a third wheel, I shake off my need to be with them grateful for the time we've had and get on with finding out why he's asked me there in the first place.  
" Listen... I want to be home when LJ comes back tonight. I hate to cut things short but I can't stay too long. You said you needed to talk to me ... said it was important.  
What's up? "

He watches me silently, undoubtedly weighing the effectiveness of trying to get me to stay for a few long minutes before giving in and stating his business.  
" If you gotta go you gotta go... I needed to talk to you because I have a date at the courthouse downtown Friday afternoon and I wanted you to be there for me. "

My heart clenches in my chest and I feel as if I might be sick at the mere thought of him back in that courthouse.

" Courthouse? What the hell for! You were cleared...you're done with that, Michael."

Seeing my obvious alarm, probably far worse then I realize judging by the look on his face, he reaches over and takes hold of my arm, shaking me gently back to my senses as he speaks.

" Whoa... Sorry! It's not like that... I didn't mean to scare you. No trial this time... no hearing ... it's something else... "

He goes quiet next to me, forcing me to look over and meet his eye before I'll hear what it is he has to say. " No trial court this time around, Linc. Just a little visit to the Justice of the Peace... I need you there with me, by my side, because I'm... Sara and I, we're... going to get married. "

" Married? ... my little brother? Seriously?"

He smiles brightly, making how good this life is for him crystal clear.

" Yep... me... married!"

He glances over at his daughter next him briefly then back over to me. " ...a little late, I guess, but I asked, she accepted, and we're going to make it legal Friday at four PM. Will you be there? I need you.. not sure I can do it without you... "

" Yeah, of course I'll be there. I won't miss it for the world. "

" Congratulations... "

Rising to my feet holding out my hand offering it up for him to shake, I take firm hold of his hand dragging him to me, into my arms, hugging him hard, relieved in knowing at last he has everything I ever wanted for him.

" I'll be there for you, Michael. Whatever you need... I'll always be there for you. "

THE END!


End file.
